MAY  o^   rq^Q    I 


6V 


^^    7233  .B4S54  4th  ser   , 

Beecher,  Henry  Ward   f o  i\  ^ 

1887  ward,  1813- 

The 


sermons  of  Hen 


'  ^  ."?  P' vmnuf  h 


ry  Ward 


N, 


y'. 


MAY   22  /? 


THE   SERMONS    %Am.^ 


or 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER, 


Df 


Plymouth  Churchy  Brooklyn. 


FROM  VERBATIM  REPORTS  BY  T.  J.  ELLINWOOD. 


« 


PLYMOUTH    PULPIT 


» 


FOURTH  SERIES: 


,UABCH,  1870-SEFTEMBEB,  1870. 


NEW-YORK: 
J.  B.   FORD  &  COMPANY,  27  PARK  PLACE. 
1872. 


Bntored  aoeordInK  to  Act  of  Oongresi,  In  tts  year  inO, 

$.  B.  FOBD  *  00<, 

IB  tha  Ofllor  ot  the  Libiatian  ot  Cuafreu,  Wasbiogton,  D.CL 


PEEFACE. 


Most  gratifying  evidence  is  continually  afforded  that 
this  weekly  publication  of  sermons  is  supplying  an  im- 
portant want.  Without  trenching  upon  the  living  preach- 
ers' function,  printed  sermons  go  where  the  voice  cannot, 
and  perform  a  work  which  cannot  otherwise  be  accom- 
plished. 

There  are  thousands  of  neighborhoods  without  churches, 
and  with  but  occasional  preaching  ;  there  is  many  a  vil- 
lage whose  church  is  without  a  pastor,  in  which  these  ser- 
mons are  read.  In  many  instances,  and  some  of  especial 
interest,  the  services  of  the  sanctuary  have  been  kept  up 
in  the  absence  of  a  pastor  by  the  reading  of  these  sermons, 
and  the  congregations  have  grown  from  Sunday  to  Sunday. 

They  are  carried  by  Christian  people  on  travels  and 
voyages,  and  even  in  the  distant  lands,  on  the  Sabbath, 
they  perform  their  benign  work,  not  only  refreshing  to 
the  wanderer's  soul,  but  bring  back  to  him  the  endearing  as- 
sociations of  home  and  the  home-church.  They  have  also 
proved  a  great  solace  to  those  who  by  reason  of  sickness 
or  infirmity  are  kept  from  the  House  of  God. 

I  am  devoutly  grateful  and  thankful  for  the  privilege 
of  preaching  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  to  multitudes  whom 
I  shall  never  see  in  the  flesh ;  and  my  prayer  is,  that  these 
sermons  may  still  go  on  their  way  doing  good. 

Henry  Ward  Beecheb. 
Sept.  15, 1870. 


CONTENTS. 


i     I.  BoBEOwiN(j  Teoublb  (Matt.  vi.  34) ,        7 

Lesson  :  Matt.  ri.  9-34.    *n:YMNS :  714,  686,  619. 

_^II.  Witnessing  for  Chhist  (Mark  v.  19)       .       ,       •       ,       ,  27 

Lesson  :  Luko  xvii.  1-19.    Hvmns  :  170,  603,  666. 

in.  Dbsiring  and  CHoosma  (Heb.  xi.  25)  .       ,       ,       ,       ,       ,      49 
Lesson  :  Fcalm  xlviii.    Hymns  :  907,  1185,  1163. 

IV.  Spiritual  STtiMBLiNa  Blocks  (Isa.  Ivii.  14)     I       I       ,       »  67 

Lesson  :  Isa.  IviL    Htuns  :  639,  660,  566. 

J     V.  Bbautt  (Zech.  ix.  17)    .        .        .        .        .'       7       .       •       .87 

Lessons  :  Ephesians  ii.  1-13— iii.  1-21.    Htuns  :  S16,  364,  655. 

VI.  All  Hail!  (Matt,  xxviii.  9-10)         ....,',         105 

Lessons  :  Matt,  zxvii.  62-66 ;  xxviii.  1-10 ;  Lake  xxir.  9-11.    Htuns  :  255,  296. 
Vn.  Night  and  Darkness  (Eph.  v.  11) ,     119 

Lesson  :  Eph.  v.  1-16.    Hymns  :  199,  606, 1353. 

VIII.  The  True  Economy  of  Living  (Matt.  x.  39)  ;       «      j.       ;         135 
Lesson:  1  Tim.  6.    Hyuns:  260,  688,  "Shining  Shore." 

IX.  Law  of  Hereditary  Influence  (Exod.  xzxiv.  7.)    , .       •       .     155 

Lesson  :  Psalm  xxvii.    Hymns  :  249,  906,  1263. 

X.  The  True  Religion  (Matt.  xxii.  36-40)  .       •       •       •        171 

Lesson  :  Rom.  xii.    Hymns  :  269,  513, 1262. 

XI.  The  Ideal  of  Cheistl^n  Experience  (1  Jno.  xiv.  22, 23)  I       .     193 
Lesson  :  Jno.  xiv.  8-31.    Hymns  :  912,  898, 1257. 

Xn.  Observance  of  the  Lord's  Day  (Isa.  Iviii.  13-14)        ,       •     '    213 
Lesson:  Isa.  Iviii.    Hymns;  51,  365,  30. 

XIII.  Sympathy  of  the  Divine  Spirit  (Rom.  viii.  26)       J       .        ,     235 

Lesson  :  Eph.  vi.    Hymns  :  639,  692,  672. 

XIV.  Conflicts  of  the  Christian  Life  (1  Pet.  i.  6-7.)    ',        ^       •         253 

Lesson  :  Matt  v.    Hymns  :  1344, 1235,  725. 

XV.  Earthly  Immortality  (Heb.  xi.  4)     .       ,       r       •       •       •     269 
Lesson:  Heb.  zi.  1-27.    Hymns:  40, 1227, 1257. 
•  Plymouth  Collectiow. 


Vi  OONTBNTS. 

XVI.  MKRoniLNT  Clerks  of  oub  Cities  (Prov.  xxiii.  19-23)    .       .        287 
Lesson  :  Ptot.  ii.    Hymns  :  1321,  564,  889. 

XVn.  MoEAL  Constitution  of  Man  (Rom.  ii.  13-15)   ....     305 
Lesson  :  Psalms  cxlTili.    Hymns  :  660,  668,  61& 

XVm.  Follow  Thou  Mb  (Jno.  xxi.  20-22)         .        .       *       .        .         319 
Lesson:  1  Thes.  t-    Hymns:  31,  454.  «, 

XIX  War  (James  iv.  1, 2)     .        .        .        ;        ,       ^       »       5       .333 
Lesson  :  Bomans  ziii.    Hymns  :  199,  911, 1011. 

XX.  Patiknok  (Heb.  x.  36) •       .        .         349 

Lesson  :  Komans  xii.    Hymns  :  40,  531, 1257. 

XXI.  My  Yoke  Is  East  (1  Jno.  v.  3)   .        .        ;       •       •       ,        .363 
Lesson  :  Isa.  xxvl.  1-9.    Hymns  :  1321,  905, 1251. 

XXIL  FiEKY  Darts  (Eph.  vi.  16) ;       5         379 

Lesson:  Eph.  6.    Hymns  :  23,  888,  "Shining  Shore." 

XXin.  Testimony  Against  Evil  (Rom.  xii.  9)        •        .        •       s       .     399 
Lesson  ;  Psalm  i.    Hymns  :  1295,  500,  907. 

XXrV.  The  Danger  of  Tampering  with  Sin  (2  Kings,  viii.  7-15)    .        413 
Lesson  :  James  i.  12-27.    Hymns  :  733,  531,  657. 

XXV.  The  Christian  Life  a  New  Life  (Jno.  iii.)       •       .       •       .     429 

Lesson  :  Jno.  iii.  1-15.    Hymns  :  15,  666,  1270. 

XXVI.  Conceit  (Prov.  xxii.  1-6)         ...';.••        441 
Lesson:  Piot<  ssii.  1-&    HrifMa;  1287, 1290, 1267. 


I. 

Borrowing  Trouble. 


INVOCATION. 


March  13, 1870. 

THOTT  that  openest  the  day,  and  poiirest  forth  the*  light  thereof,  so 
open  the  heaveuly  light  upon  us.  And  grant  us  that  fullness  by  which 
our  life  shall  spring  up  toward  thine ;  by  which  we  shall  understand  the 
things  of  Grod,  and  all  those  blessed  hopes  and  promises  blossoming  in  us, 
which  make  us  so  rich  in  Christ  Jesus.  Accept  our  morning  thanks.  Inspire 
us  to  give  thanks  yet  again  and  often  this  day,  making  melody  in  our  hearts. 
May  we  sing  together  in  the  sweet  fellowship  of  sacred  song.  Bless  us  in  the 
offices  of  devotion,  in  the  labor  of  instruction,  in  meditation,  and  all  the 
pursuits  and  joys  of  this  holy  day.  And  whether  in  the  sanctuary  or  in  our 
homes,  may  everything  be  done  to  our  souls'  profit,  and  to  thine  honor  and 
glory,  through  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord.  Ameri. 
1. 


PEIHOBTOn    ^^ 


\THSOLOGIGiiM 

mmowim  troMe.  " 


'  Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  eyil  thereof."— Matt.  VI.  34. 


From  the  nineteenth  verse  of  this  chapter  to  the  thu-ty-fourth,  we 
may  find  the  theoiy  of  Ufe  as  laid  down  by  om*  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Eveiy 
philosophy  proposes  to  itself,  or  seeks,  some  such  schedule  or  scheme 
of  living  ;  and  eveiy  man  has  some  idea  of  what  is  the  way  of  happi- 
ness. Not  only  every  philosophy,  but  every  religion  has  it.  Here  we 
find  the  secular  side  of  life,  the  earthly  life,  the  chart  for  living  in  this 
world,  contained  between  the  nineteenth  and  the  thirty-fourth  verses 
of  the  sixth  chapter  of  Matthew's  Gospel. 

"  Do  not  live,"  says  the  Master,  "  for  external  things.  Lay  not  up 
for  yourselves  treasures  upon  earth.  After  all  these  things  do  the  gen- 
tiles seek — what  they  shall  eat,  and  what  they  shall  diink,  and  where- 
withal they  shall  be  clothed ;  but  let  not  my  disciple,  who  acce^jts  my 
ideal  of  life,  and  means  to  be  haj^py  according  to  the  pattern  that  I 
shall  lay  down,  make  external  and  sensuous  enjoyment  the  end  and  aim 
of  his  life." 

It  is  not  taught  here  that  we  are  to  pay  no  attention  to  external 
things.  It  is  not  a  doctrine  that  lays  the  axe  at  the  root  of  enterprise, 
or  of  commerce,  or  of  secular  industiies.  It  does  not  say,  "  Be  not  en- 
gaged in  any  of  these  things."  Men  must  needs  be  occupied  with  these 
things.  But  we  are  told,  "Do  not  make  these  the  things  /or  which 
you  live :  make  them  the  things  by  which  you  live." 

If  I  go  to  see  a  brother,  long  absent,  who  has  just  landed  in  Boston, 
I  go  by  the  cars.  I  use  them  as  a  means  of  conveying  me  there.  It  is 
not  merely  for  the  sake  of  the  car-ride  that  I  go  to  Boston.  The  cars 
become  instruments  of  convenience  to  me.  My  heart  goes  for  a  pur- 
pose disconnected  from  them.  I  am  thankful  for  this  mode  of  convey- 
ance ;  but  it  is  the  means,  and  not  the  end. 

And  our  Master  says,  "Lay  up  for  yourselves  treasures  in  heaven — 
incorruptible  treasures.  Do  not  lay  up  evanescent,  eaithly  treasures, 
but  the  abiding  treasures  of  the  heavenly  state." 

Sunday  MoENiNG,  March  13, 1870.  Lbbson:  Mat.  VL  9— 34.  Htmnb  (Plymouth  Collection); 
l^os.  714,  688,  619. 


8  BORROWINa  TROUBLE. 

It  ia  not  a  stroke  at  riches.  It  is  not  undervaluing  worldly  good, 
in  its  own  place.  It  is  substantially  saying,  "  You  are  not  beasts,  that 
are  born  into  life,  and  live  only  in  this  world ;  and  therefore  you  ought 
to  lay  the  foundation  here  for  enjoyment  in  the  futui'e  life.  You  are 
really  children  of  God.  You  are  to  have  a  life  so  long,  so  noble,  and 
80  above  all  that  is  in  the  brute  creation,  that  you  should  live  for  that 
other,  interior  and  higher  life,  and  not  for  the  lower  one.  Make  the 
higher  life  and  the  nobler  development  the  aim ;  and  make  this  second- 
aiy  and  secular  life  the  mere  instrument  by  which  you  attain  that." 

Here,  then,  is  the  grand  aim.  While  the  great  mass  of  mankind 
live  through  the  senses  for  the  senses,  and  in  the  present  for  the  pres- 
ent, exclusively,  Christ  says,  "Do  you  live  for  the  higher,  the  spiritual, 
and  the  eternal  life.  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  right- 
eousness— seek  yki  first  in  the  order  of  time,  and  first  in  intensity,  the 
kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness — and  all  these  things  shall  be 
added  unto  you." 

In  this  there  is  a  profound  philosophy.  For  that  training  by  which 
a  man  seeks  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  is  just  the  training  which  makes 
him,  in  the  economic  world,  the  most  efficient,  and  the  most  sure  of 
success.     The  less  follows  the  greater. 

Then  he  teaches  us,  as  is  already  implied  in  the  very  statement 
which  I  have  made,  that  the  real  treasure  of  this  life  is  to  be  moral  and 
social  quality.  That  is  to  say,  we  are  to  seek  our  happiness,  not  by 
the  things  which  we  have  around  about  us,  but  by  what  we  have  in  us. 
It  is  what  we  are  that  is  to  make  us  happy,  and  not  what  we  have. 

I  have  seen  Cremona  violins,  dusty,  brown,  black,  split  and 
splintered  in  fifty  places,  mended  again  and  again,  and  as  homely  to 
the  eye  as  anything  can  possibly  be,  and  yet  worth  a  thousand  dol- 
lars apiece — not  on  account  of  what  they  are  to  look  at,  but  on  account 
of  the  capacity  which  they  have  of  producing  extraordinaiy  musical 
sounds.  It  is  their  intrinsic  quality  of  tone  that  makes  them  so  valu- 
able. And  I  have  seen  violins  edged  with  silvei',  inlaid  with  gold,  and 
covered  all  over  with  mother  of  pearl,  and  perfectly  gorgeous  to  a  ba- 
by's eyes,  that  had  no  quality  or  capacity  for  producing  musical  sounds, 
and  that  were  well  nigh  worthless. 

I  have  seen  persons  who  have  attempted  to  be  happy  by  overlaying 
themselves  with  exterior  adornments  and  pleasures,  and  who  were  like 
a  violin  without  music  in  it,  but  with  splendid  stufi"  on  the  outside 
of  it. 

And  so  the  genius  of  the  Christian  scheme  says  to  every  man,  "Your 
happiness  is  to  come  from  the  essential  quality  of  your  nature,  and  not 
from  what  you  put  on  yourselves."  You  may  cover  yourselves  with 
pearls  and  jewels,  you  may  heap  up  aiound  about  you  silver  and  gold ; 


BORROWING  TROUBLE.  » 

but  you  cannot  be  happy  with  these  things  if  you  have  not  the  capacity 
of  being  happy  in  yourself  Happiness  comes  from  the  concords  of  a 
man's  own  nature,  and  not  from  outward  circumstances.  When  a  man 
is  prepared  to  be  happy,  outward  circumstances  help  him.  Of  course 
they  furnish  the  material  or  occasion  of  his  happiness ;  but  the  prime 
condition — that  without  which  all  other  things  fail — is  that  the  dispo- 
sitions in  the  man  shall  be  set  so  that  he  shall  be  capable  of  beuig  made 
happy. 

I  have  thus  said  expansively  that  which  is  said  in  the  most  con- 
densed, apothegmatic  form  in  the  New  Testament — "  Seek  ye  first  the 
kingdom  of  God  and  its  righteousness."  "Lay  u])  for  yourselves  treas- 
m*es  in  heaven  " — not  perishable  things  of  this  world,  but  higher  quali- 
ties, Christian  gi'aces,  inward  experiences  and  dispositions,  which  in 
then*  veiy  nature  are  joy-bearing  here,  and  are  immortal  there.  Let  such 
be  the  end  and  aim  of  your  life." 

This  mode  of  teaching  is  the  more  striking  to  us  because  the  mod- 
ern spirit,  and  the  American  spirit  before  all  others,  is  the  spirit  of  fore- 
looking  enterprise,  and  is  restless,  and  insatiable,  and  indomitable,  and 
for  the  most  part  sensuous  and  external.  You  could  not  rebuke  the 
whole  temper  and  spiiit  of  the  times  more  than  by  the  exjjosition  of 
this  scheme  of  happy  living,  as  propounded  in  the  gospel.  Every  man 
feels,  in  the  very  air,  as  it  were,  the  impulse  to  build  himself  up  into  a 
power  in  life.  Every  boy  is  born  to  he  somebody,  in  this  country.  Hia 
parents,  among  then*  first  inculcations,  instil  this  into  him.  "It  is  vul- 
gar," they  say,  "to  stay  where  you  start."  Everybody  has  a  chance  for 
everything,  we  are  told.  And  it  has  become  hackneyed,  that  every 
man's  son  may  be  President,  or  Chief  Justice,  or  something  else. 
Everybody  has  the  liberty  to  do  everything,  it  is  said.  And  therefore 
everybody  is  a-whu-ling  and  a-whizzing  from  the  very  cradle  after  every- 
thing. There  is  nothing  that  is  looked  upon  more  contemptuously  in 
this  country  than  content.  There  is  no  man  that  commands  so  little 
respect  as  the  man  that  is  contented  with  his  condition.  You  shall 
hear  it  said  of  a  man,  "He  was  born  of  poor  parents,  he  has  been  poor 
all  his  life,  he  is  going  to  be  jjoor  the  rest  of  his  days,  he  knows  it,  and- 
he  does  not  care.  He  has  no  spirit.  To  be  sure,  he  sings  all  the  time, 
and  is  happy  all  the  time  ;  but  then,  he  is  nobody.  There  is  nowliere 
that  the  modern  spirit  is  more  shown  in  contrast  with  the  truly  Chris- 
tian spirit,  than  in  this  land  of  life,  and  enterprise,  and  fever,  and  rest- 
less industry,  where  every  man  is  pressing  forward.  And  although  the- 
oretically we  are  all  orthodox,  although  we  are  all  right  with  the  creed, 
we  are  wrong  somewhere  else.  It  is  not  in  their  creeds  that  men  are 
generally  erroneous.  It  is  in  their  business,  it  is  in  then-  out-door  and! 
every-day  hfe,  that  they  fall  into  mistakes.     Out  of  doors  we  ai'e  all  sin- 


10  BOBBOWING  TROUBLE. 

ners  alike,  no  matter  what  we  believe.  We  are  all  pressing  on  for  out- 
ward exaltation ;  for  treasui-es  that  the  eye  can  see  and  the  hands  can 
handle.  We  ai"e  all  living  for  the  omnipotent  present,  and  seeking  to 
make  om'selves  happy  by  banking  and  building  up  on  every  side.  An/^ 
when  we  come  to  call  men's  attention  to  the  fevered  state  of  mind 
which  grows  up  under  these  intensive  goadings  of  industry  ;  when  we 
come  to  say  to  them,  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteous- 
ness, and  as  much  of  these  things  as  you  need  shall  be  added  to  you," 
they  say,  "Yes,  that  probably  is  true,  in  a  sense."  But  that  is  only  an 
evasion.  It  is  not  trae  to  them.  They  do  not  believe  a  word  of  it. 
When  we  preach  to  men,  "  Lay  not  up  for  yourselves  treasures  upon 
earth,  where  moth  and  rust  doth  corrupt,  and  where  thieves  break 
through  and  steal ;  but  lay  up  for  yourselves  treasures  in  heaven,  where 
neither  moth  nor  rust  doth  corrupt,  and  where  thieves  do  not  break 
thi-ough  nor  steal ;"  when  we  exhort  them  not  to  lay  up  their  treasure 
in  this  world,  where  at  the  best  it  is  evanescent,  and  where  it  is  very 
feeble  to  create  happiness,  but  to  lay  it  up  in  the  world  to  come,  where 
will  be  enduring,  and  where  it  will  be  to  them  a  source  of  "joy  unspeak- 
able, and  full  of  glory";  when  we  tell  them  to  be  rich  toward  God,  to 
be  rich  beyond,  to  be  rich  in  hope  and  faith  and  pure  love — they  do  not 
understand  that,  or  they  do  not  believe  in  it  if  they  do  understand  it. 

The  scale  of  living,  too,  is  so  much  raised  by  the  very  power  of 
Christianity  to  intensify  the  human  mind,  society  has  so  developed, 
and  civilization,  which  always  goes  from  simplicity  toward  complexity, 
requires  so  much  more  to  make  a  man  the  equal  of  his  fellows,  that  no 
man  can  keep  upon  his  level  without  a  gi-eat  deal  of  activity.  That  is 
not  an  evil,  although  it  is  oftentimes  perverted  mto  one.  The  world 
has  become  very  much  like  a  treadmill.  Formerly  the  wheel  revolved 
so  slowly  that  men  could  keep  step,  the  laziest  of  them  ;  but  the  gi-eat 
world  now  whirls  round  so  fast  that  a  man  must  run  or  drag.  And 
the  consequence  is  that  they  who,  at  the  start,  are  comparatively  feeble, 
or  lacking  in  power,  in  ingenuity,  in  enterprise,  or  in  efficiency,  find 
themselves  obliged  to  bustle  up  their  step,  in  order  to  keep  along  with 
the  march  of  their  fellows  or  their  class  in  society. 

We  always  measure  ourselves  by  relative  standards ;  and  he  is  rich 
that  is  richer  than  somebody  else ;  and  he  is  strong  that  is  stronger  than 
[Somebody  else;  and  he  is  good  or  pure  that  is  better  or  purer  than 
;  somebody  else  whose  life  is  keyed  to  a  certain  elevated  standard.  And 
so  men  are  crowding  one  another,  and  there  is  infinite  rivalry  between 
them  on  every  side,  because  they  are  striving  to  reach  their  ideal.  Some 
men  say,  "  I  want  to  heap  up  great  riches."  A  gi-eat  many  others  say, 
"  I  do  not  want  to  be  very  rich.  All  I  want  is  to  have  a  fair  equality 
\with  my  fellow  men."     But  their  fellow  men  live  in  a  stage  of  society, 


BORROWING  TROTIBLm.  11 

a  civilization,  so  complicated,  with  so  many  and  such  various  wants  to 
be  cared  for,  with  a  demand  for  so  many  "conveniences"  (the  most  in- 
tolerable nuisances  in  human  life  are  these  same  conveniences — con- 
veniences that  have  to  be  watered  and  pruned;  conveniences — that 
have  to  be  dusted  and  cleaned  ;  conveniences — that  have  to  be  packed 
and  unpacked;  conveniences — that  become  moth-eaten;  conveniences 
— that  run  zigzag,  and  all  sorts  of  ways  ;  conveniences — that  keep  peo- 
ple busy  all  the  time) — theu-  fellow  men  live  on  so  comprehensive  a 
scale,  that  it  is  impossible  to  keep  equal  with  them.  And  so  it  is  with 
society  at  large.  There  is  prevalent  siich  an  intensive  spirit  of  enter- 
prise, that  men  are  placed  under  a  continual  pressure.  The  very  wealth 
of  society  in  the  station  where  you  are,  puts  you  upon  an  immense 
amount  of  exterior  industry  and  of  necessity  in  order  to  take  care  of 
yourselves — and  that,  too,  when  you  only  mean  to  be  at  a  fair  level  or 
a  fan-  equality  among  men. 

I  do  not  undertake  to  say  that  this  state  is  not  better  than  a  savage 
or  barbaric  state  ;  but  I  do  say  that,  all  the  more,  because  this  higher 
state  has  its  attendant  temptations,  we  need  to  hear  the  cooUng,  calm- 
ing declarations  that,  after  all^  our  life  does  not  stand  in  external 
things ;  that  a  man  may  be  a  man,  and  not  be  rich,  nor  powerful,  nor 
surrounded  by  all  the  objects  which  we  are  seeking ;  that  though  he 
may  have  and  be  happy  in  them,  yet  if,  in  the  pi'ovidence  of  God,  he 
is  overruled,  and  misses  them,  he  should  not  think  that  he  cannot  be 
happy  without  them ;  and  that  if  in  the  poorest  man  on  earth,  in  a 
pauper,  the  kingdom  of  God  is  rich,  he  has  laid  up  treasures  above,  the 
reflection  of  which  will  make  him  light  and  bright  even  here  on  earth. 

Against  this  tendency  to  absorb  all  the  forces  of  life  and  society 
upon  our  material  conditions,  the  Saviour  sets  up  a  totally  different  ca- 
reer and  course.  The  indisi^ensable  physical  things  of  life  do  not  re- 
quhe  excessive  toil  or  anxiety.  That  is  to  say,  "  your  heavenly  father 
knoweth  that  ye  have  need  of  these  things."  It  is  as  if  the  Master  had 
said,  "The  divine  government  is  such  that  a  man  can  eat,  and  di'ink, 
and  be  clothed,  and  have  a  reasonable  amount  of  comfort  in  his  house- 
hold, without  excessive  toil  and  taxation."  There  are  special  excep- 
tions to  this ;  but  this  is  the  general  rule,  comprehensively  stated,  in 
regard  to  the  races,  and  the  nations  of  the  earth.  All  that  is  necessary 
to  take  care  of  the  body  does  not  need  to  consume  the  whole  of  life's 
forces.  If  a  man  has  sought  first  and  chiefly  the  soul's  treasure — good- 
ness, kindness,  gentleness,  devoutness,  cheerfulness,  hope,  faith  and 
love — he  will  extract  more  joy  from  the  poorest  furniture  and  outfitting 
of  life  than  otherwise  he  could  get  from  the  whole  world.  For  excite- 
ment comes  from  our  lower  passions  ;  but  joy  comes  only  from  our  sen- 
timents.    A  man  may  by  excessive  taxation  reap  excessive  exhilaratioa 


12  BORROWING  TROUBLE. 

and  excitement :  but  no  man  can  get  joy  except  from  those  branches 
on  which  it  gi'ows — namely,  the  affections  and  the  moral  sentiments. 
The  appetites  and  passions  do  not  give  joy.  Fiery  excitements  come 
from  them ;  but  joy  comes  only  from  the  higher  and  nobler  develop- 
ments. 

Therefore,  after  this  outline  of  the  course  of  life,  the  idea  of  it,  its 
method  and  instruments,  the  whole  is  summed  up  by  the  Saviour  in 
this:  ^^ Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof."  "It  is  needless," 
he  says,  "  that  you  should  be  bearing  troubles ;  that  you  should  be  wor- 
rying over  long  plans  ahead ;  that  you  should  be  wearing  yourselves 
out  with  cares ;  that  you  should  be  subjected  to  all  the  suffering  of  pos- 
sible evils  in  days  to  come.  The  true  scheme  of  life,  the  highest  wisdom 
in  living,  the  hope  of  immortality,  ought  to  dispossess  the  low  and 
beggarly  way  in  which  men  live.  No  man  should  allow  himself  to 
live  from  day  to  day  under  all  that  accumulation  of  care  and  burden 
which  the  futm'e  foretokens ;  and  especially  all  the  evils  and  mischiefs 
which  fear  and  the  morbid  conditions  of  the  mind  forebode.  No  man 
has  a  right  to  import  all  these  into  a  single  day.  But  this  is  just  what 
men  are  accustomed  to  do. 

Each  single  and  particular  day  is  marked  out  by  the  providence  of 
God,  so  to  speak,  that  it  may  cut  off  the  past  and  all  its  mischiefs,  and 
that  it  may  intercept  and  prevent  all  the  possible  mischiefs  of  the  fu- 
ture. The  question  is,  Have  you  grace  given  you  to-day  to  lift  the 
burdens  of  to-day  ?  Have  you  grace  given  you  to-day  to  be  content 
with  the  condition  of  to-day  ?  It  matters  not  whether  you  have  food 
for  to-morrow,  ordinarily  speaking.  There  are  exceptional  cases,  which 
I  do  not  need  to  instance,  as  of  voyagers  on  desolate  islands,  or  men 
making  preparation  for  long  expeditions  ;  but  as  men  live  ordinarily,  it 
may  be  said  that  if  a  man  can  bear  the  load  of  to-day,  the  sorrows  of 
to-day,  the  joys  of  to-day,  that  is  all  he  need  concern  himself  about. 

I  do  not  mean  to  be  understood  as  saying  that  we  do  not  need  to 
lay  our  plans  far  ahead.  For  forelooking  is  not  burdensome.  It  is  no 
more  burdensome  to  plan  for  the  next  year  or  the  next  mouth,  than  it 
is  to  plan  for  the  next  hour  or  the  next  minute.  The  use  of  your  in- 
telligence prophetically,  as  it  were,  along  the  line  of  cause  and  effect — 
that  is  not  forbidden.  Nor  is  it  wrong  for  men,  by  faith  or  by  hope, 
to  look  forward.  That  is  pleasure-bearing.  But  to  look  forward  or 
back  in  such  a  way  as  to  bring  unhappiness — that  is  disallowed.  You 
have  no  right  to  do  it.  In  each  particular  day  you  are  to  concentrate, 
and  burden  yourself  with,  only  the  troubles  which  belong  to  that  day — 
that  is,  the  troubles  which  spring  from  the  cii'cumstances  of  that  day. 
"But,"  says  one,  "the  child  may  die  to-morrow."  Wait,  then,  till 
to  morrow,  before  you  mourn  the  dying  child.     "But  bankruptcy  may 


BORROWING  TROUBLE.  13 

come  to-morrow."  Well,  if  to-day  is  the  last  day  that  you  are  not 
bankrupt,  at  least  enjoy  to-day.  "  But,  how  shall  I  provide  for  to- 
morrow T  The  Master  says,  "  Sufficient  for  to-day  are  the  evils  of  to- 
day." Let  the  evils,  let  the  sufferings,  let  the  weai'  and  tear  of  the  care 
which  belongs  to  each  particular  day,  be  enough. 

Besides,  there  is  a  piece  of  humor  in  the  reply.  You  will  worry, 
you  will  fret,  for  to-morrow  ?  "  Which  of  you,  by  taking  thought,  can 
add  one  cubit  to  his  stature  ?"  Or,  in  other  words,  how  absurd  it  would 
be,  to  see  a  dwarf  foaming,  and  worrying,  and  fretting,  because  he  was 
only  five  feet  high,  and  saying,  "  If  I  had  been  six  feet  I  should  have 
been  an  orator f  How  absurd  it  would  be  for  a  short  man  to  say,  "If 
I  were  only  as  tall  as  ordinary  men,  I  might  have  made  my  mark  in 
the  world ;  but  I  am  this  diminutive  little  imp,  and  I  go  tripping  here 
and  there  just  like  a  little  whiffet,  and  nobody  cares  for  me ;  and,  oh ! 
if  I  could  only  be  taller,  how  much  better  I  should  be !"  Our  Mas- 
ter points  to  the  absurdity  of  it ;  and  no  man  can  think  of  it  without  a 
smile  of  ridicule.  If  there  is  one  thing  that  is  more  ridiculous  than 
another,  it  is  a  man's  trying  to  make  himself  taller  by  stretching  up- 
wards. Height  is  one  of  those  things  that  a  man  before  he  is  forty 
years  old  generally  concludes  to  be  content  with.  Men  learn  before 
they  are  very  old,  to  take  their  features  and  theii*  stature,  and  not  at- 
tempt to  change  them.  There  are  things  that  a  man  must  carry  along 
with  him  to  the  end  of  life.  He  cannot  help  himself.  And  our  Sav- 
iour says,  "  Which  of  you,  by  taking  thought,  can  add  one  cubit  unto 
his  stature  ?"  And  why  take  anxious  thought  for  the  things  of  to- 
morrow ?  What  odds  will  it  make  ?  Suppose  you  think  ever  so  much, 
suppose  you  rasp  your  mind  with  fearful  cares,  will  it  make  your  case 
any  better  ?  Caii  you  change  to-morrow  ?  Can  you  render  inopera- 
tive the  law  of  cause  and  effect  ?  Can  you  by  solicitous  forelooking 
thi'ow  light  into  the  shadow  ?  Can  you  dissipate  the  lurking,  or  the 
supposed  lui-king  evils,  by  a  consideration  of  them  ?  It  is  an  impossir 
ble  thing. 

You  are  master  of  yourself  to-day  ;  but  God  gives  you  supremacy 
for  only  one  day  at  a  time.  To  "morrow  is  not  your  kingdom.  Of  to- 
morrow you  have  no  scepter  till  to-moiTow  is  to-day.  No  man  owns 
anything  until  it  has  been  converted  into  to-day.  As  fast  as  time  is 
ours  it  is  brought  to  us  ;  and  then  we  administer  over  it.  And  to-day 
I  can  say,  "  Can  I  get  through  to-day  ?"  I  never  saw  a  man  that 
could  not  get  through  a  single  day.  That  is  a  space  that  almost  any- 
body can  stride  over.  Almost  everybody  says,  "  I  could  get  through 
to-day  if  I  had  reason  to  believe  that  to-morrow — ."  Oh  !  to-morrow- 
does  not  exist  to  you.  If  you  can  bear  your  burden  to-day,  if  ycucan 
caiiy  yom-  cross  to-day,  if  you  can  endure  your  pain  to-day,  if  you  can 


14  BORROWING  TROUBLE. 

suffer  the  sliame  of  to-day,  if  you  can  put  down  the  fear  of  to-day,  if 
you  can  find  philosophy  of  contentment  to-day,  you  will  get  along  well 
enough.  Take  what  comes  to  you  to-day.  To-mon-ow  you  have  no 
business  with.  You  steal  if  you  touch  to-mon'ow.  It  is  God's.  Every 
day  has  in  it  enough  to  keep  every  man  occupied  without  concerning 
himself  with  the  things  which  lie  beyond. 

When  the  pilot  is  steering  on  the  Ohio  river,  he  looks  at  the  head- 
lands miles  beyond  hhn,  in  order  to  know  where  he  is  ;  for  he  has  been 
accustomed  to  judge  of  the  twisting  and  torturous  channel  by  certain 
of  these  headlands.  And  so  a  man  may  take  headlands  far  down  in 
the  future  to  steer  by,  in  order  that  he  may  be  better  enabled  to  run  his 
keel  in  the  channel  that  he  is  now  in.  By  foresight  we  enable  our- 
selves to  get  along  better  to-day  ;  and  by  so  much  we  have  a  right  to 
look  into  the  future.  But  all  the  foresight  of  a  given  day  is  only  to  be 
such  as  shall  better  fit  us  for  the  duties  of  that  day.  And  when  a  man 
has  got  through  with  the  wakmg  hours  of  any  single  day,  he  has  got 
through  with  his  duty  up  to  that  point  of  time.  Duties  will  begin 
again  to-morrow ;  but  all  duties  lapse  and  end  with  each  sphere  of  ac- 
tive time  given  to  man.  You  have  enough  work  to  occupy  all  your 
time  to-day.  And  blessed  be  the  man  whose  work  diives  him.  Some- 
thing must  drive  men  ;  and  if  it  is  wholesome  industry,  they  have  no 
time  for  a  thousand  torments  and  temptations  which  they  would  other- 
wise have.  And  let  him  be  thankful  who  has  every  day  enough  legit- 
imate work  to  keep  him  busy. 

A  ship  that  has  headway  steers  easy  ;  but  while  it  lies  drifting  in 
the  tide  you  cannot  steer  it  at  all.  It  swings  back  and  forth,  and  you 
have  no  control  of  it.  First  the  stern  is  "  on,"  then  the  bow,  and  then 
the  broadside.  And  so  it  is  with  idle  men.  A  man  that  has  nothing 
to  do  is  di-ifting  and  whirling  around,  and  is  liable  to  go  on  this  mud- 
bank,  or  on  that  sand-shoal,  or  what  not.  He  cannot  manage  himself. 
No  man  is  so  miserable  as  the  man  who  is  uncertain  as  to  what  he  shall 
do.  The  French  have  invented  a  word — ennui — by  which  to  describe 
the  condition  of  such  persons.  We  have  not  the  word  in  the  English 
language,  but  we  have  the  thing — a  good  deal  of  it.  The  wretched- 
ness which  comes  from  a  man's  having  nothing  to  do  has  deserved  the 
invention  of  a  phi-ase  in  language;  and  we  borrowed  it  from  the 
French. 

I  know  what  this  thing  is  myself  I  know  that  when  I  have  a  week 
or  ten  days  in  which  I  have  nothing  to  do — nothing  special  to  do — 
everything,  and  therefore  nothing — no  fixed  plan — no  pressure  on  every 
side — they  are  unhappy  days.  I  am  glad  to  get  out  of  vacation  into 
term-time  again.  I  am  glad  to  get  back  from  the  pasture  into  the  har- 
ness agam.     I  am  glad  to  throw  off  the  harness  and  go  to  gi-ass ;  rest 


BORROWING  TROUBLE.  15 

in  its  place  is  appropiiate  and  desii'able :  but  work  is  also  appropriate 
and  desii-able  in  its  place.  Work  is  not  God's  curse.  "Work  is  God's 
medicine.  If  it  had  not  been  for  work  when  Adam  and  Eve  were  cast 
out  of  paradise,  they  would  have  died  of  their  misery.  Work  com- 
forted them.  They  tilled  the  earth  ;  and  in  the  sweat  of  then*  brow 
they  ate  their  bread  ;  and  the  sweat  of  their  brow  took  off  the  fever 
that  Avould  have  been  in  their  blood  and  bones  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
work  and  the  sweat.  Every  day  ought  to  have  enough  work  to  occu- 
py a  man  wholesomely.  Every  day  has  conflicts  enough  to  fill  up  a 
man's  whole  time.  If  a  man  is  trying  to  carry  himself  according  to 
the  spirit  of  true  love,  he  has  enough  to  occupy  him  every  day.  If  a 
man  is  attempting  to  subordinate  all  his  passions,  he  has  work  enough 
for  every  day.  If  a  man  is  endeavoring  to  fulfill  all  the  duties  of  life, 
he  has  enough  to  attend  to  every  single  day,  without  troubling  himself 
about  the  duties  of  to-morrow.  Every  day  has  occupations  of  useful- 
ness enough  to  keep  a  man  busy  all  the  while.  A  man's  secular  indus- 
try, his  spiritual  conflicts,  and  his  life  of  benevolence,  are  ample  con- 
tents with  which  to  grace  and  fill  up  every  day  as  it  comes.  And  we 
ought  not  to  meddle  with  to-morrow.  You  cannot  do  it  without  sub- 
tracting just  so  much  from  the  fidelity  of  to-day.  We  have  no  strength 
to  waste.  The  field  is  so  large  in  any  single  day,  that  no  man  can 
perfectly  till  it ;  and  why  should  he  go  over  the  bounds  into  the  next 
field? 

In  God's  economy,  each  day,  well  cared  /or,  prepares  for  the  next, 
as  cause  prepares  for  effect.  Days  ai'e  invisibly  joined.  You  have, 
perhaps,  jointed,  anatomized,  birds,  or  fishes,  or  animals.  Did  you  ever 
play  anatomy  on  your  own  action,  to  see  what  was  the  line  of  cause 
and  effect  all  through  one  single  day  ?  Dissection  requires  the  very^ 
nicest  insight  and  judgment ;  but  there  is  no  such  organization  in  mat- 
ter and  flesh  as  there  is  in  that  curious  complication  of  cause  and  effect 
in  things  intellectual  and  social  and  moral,  called  human  life.  Eachi 
hour  is  the  legitimate  product  of  the  hour  which  went  before  it.  If 
this  hour  bulges  like  the  arm  joint,  then  the  next  hour  is  a  socket  into- 
which  it  fits  itself.  And  so  one  part  articulates  into  another,  each  suc- 
cessive part  being  in  some  way  logically  connected  with  thai  which 
went  before. 

Now,  if  a  man  prepares  for  to-moiTow  by  making  to-day  right,  he 
can  foresee  what  the  effect  will  be.  The  next  day  will  come  up  as  the 
legitimate  antithesis,  or  the  legitimate  consequence,  of  the  right-lived 
day  which  prepared  the  way  for  it.  And  if  a  man,  neglecting  his  du- 
ties to-day,  thinks  of  what  he  will  do  to-mon-ow,  the  to-morrow  whieh 
he  thinks  of  will  not  come  to  pass.  There  will  be  a  to-moiTow,  but  it 
will  be  a  different  to-morrow  from  that  which  he  anticipates.    For  each 


16  BORROWING  TROUBLE. 

to-mon'ow  is  the  logical  sequence  of  the  right  to-day,  or  the  wrong  to- 
day, as  the  case  may  be.  "  As  thy  day,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  He 
that  can  get  through  any  single  day  wisely,  will  find  that  the  next  day 
win  be  more  easy  than  to-day  was. 

No  man  can  see  what  is  to  come  after  him.  You  burden  your 
time,  therefore,  with  uni-ealities.  More  than  half  the  things  that  have 
made  you  unhappy,  have  had  no  existence. 

If  one  is  jaded,  overworked,  dyspeptic,  it  is  a  familiar  symptom 
that  when  he  wakes  in  the  morning,  all  the  world  is  clouded  with 
gloom  to  him.  When  an  overtaxed  and  overcerebrated  man  gets  up 
in  the  morning,  before  his  system  has  had  time  to  carry  itself  up  by 
excitement  to  its  proper  pitch,  he  is  nobody,  he  thinks  ;  he  never  was 
anybody,  and  he  never  will  be  anybody ;  nobody  loves  him  ;  nobody 
ever  did  love  him,  and  nobody  ever  will  love  him  ;  he  never  did  any- 
thing, and  he  never  shall  do  anything  ;  and  he  does  not  care.  Every- 
thing he  looks  at  has  a  blue  side,  as  it  is  called.  But  by  ten  o'clock, 
what  with  a  good  breakfast,  and  what  with  the  social  activities  of  the 
meal,  his  nervous  system  becomes  strained  up,  and  he  begins  to  get 
the  full  use  of  himself,  and  one  cloud  after  another  goes  off,  and  about 
twelve  o'clock  he  looks  back  and  smiles  at  himself,  and  says,  "  I  was  a 
fool  this  morning.  I  can  see  it  now,  though  I  could  not  then.  Every- 
.  thing  I  looked  at  was  dismal.  It  was  all  unreal.  It  was  purely  imagin- 
ary— no  it  was  not  even  imaginary :  it  was  the  result  of  a  morbid  im- 
aginary state."  And  that  which  is  ti'ue  as  judged  by  the  previous 
hours  of  the  day,  is  not  true  as  judged  by  the  subsequent  hours  of  the 
day. 

If  one  would  only  make  statistics  of  his  experience  ;  if  one  would 
only  keep  a  book,  he  would  find  that  nine-tenths  of  the  things  which 
trouble  and  vex  him  are  unreal,  or  else  things  which  he  ought  not 
to  have  thought  of,  anyhow. 

Why  are  you  unhappy  1  "  Well,  here  I  am :  I  used  to  live  in  a 
brown-stone  house,  four  stories  high,  with  servants,  equipage,  and  all 
that ;  and  now  I  am  brought  down  to  this  two-story  house,  with  the 
plainest  kind  of  carpets  and  furniture.  All  my  circumstances  in  life 
are  changed."  Well,  have  you  enough  to  eat  and  drink  ?  Have  you 
fielf-resi^ect  ?  Have  you  a  sense  of  honor  ?  Is  life  as  beautiful  as  ever 
to  you  in  all  the  developments  which  God  has  made  in  the  heaven  and 
on  the  earth.  The  flow  of  time  ;  the  procession  of  the  seasons,  the  honor 
and  respect  of  good  men ;  the  love  that  one  bears  to  another  under 
the  same  roof,  and  in  the  household — are  all  these  great  treasures 
given  to  you?  Have  you  Christ,  and  God,  and  hope  of  immortality? 
What  is  the  matter  that  you  are  so  wretched  to-day  ? 
I     '^  Well,  I  feel  my  crown ;  I  am  the  King's  son  ;  I  have  an  eternal 


BORROWING  TROUBLE.  17 

inheritance ;  but  this  I  have  in  a  two-stoiy  house,  and  I  want  it  in  a 
four-story  house !"  Ought  not  such  miserable  creatures  as  he — that  is 
to  say,  nine-lienths  of  us — to  be  whipped  and  scourged  for  so  far  low- 
ering themselves  as  to  forget  all  the  magnitudes  of  manhood ;  all  the 
essential  verities  of  life  ;  all  the  elements  which  go  to  make  honor,  and 
self-respect,  and  the  mutual  love  and  sweet  endearments  of  the  house- 
hold ;  all  the  cheer  on  the  pathway  to  the  grave ;  the  triumph  of 
dying ;  the  glory  of  the  resurection ;  the  immortality  of  blessedness 
beyond  death,  where  no  wave-stroke  of  care  ever  comes  1  All  these 
things  are  theu'S  professedly,  and  really,  oftentimes ;  and  yet  they  are 
low-browed,  and  anxious,  and  wearied,  and  have  no  comfort  at  break- 
fast, and  have  no  cheer  at  dinner,  and  are  piiserable  at  tea ;  and  they 
go  discontented  to  bed,  and  get  up  discontented  in  the  morning,  and 
wear  out  then*  lives  in  fretting  because  they  are  not  quite  as  properous 
as  they  want  to  be  ;  because  A.  is  more  prosperous  than  they  are ;  be- 
cause they  are  not  equal  to  B. ;  because  the  whole  alphabet  is  against 
them ! 

More  than  that,  if  this  class  of  frets  and  worries  which  we  allow  to 
distm"b  our  happiness  be  taken  out  of  the  way,  look  at  the  anticipated 
ones  that  would  be  worthy  of  troubling  us,  and  see  how  almost  invari- 
ably they  are  like  bubbles  which  we  ourselves  blow,  and  which  we  can- 
not breathe  in  the  presence  of  without  blowing  them  out. 

A  friend  of  mine  explained  to  me  his  cure  of  si^eculating  in  stocks. 
It  will  not  hurt  some  of  you  to  hear  the  stoiy. 

He  felt  perfectly  certain  of  making  money ;  but  he  was  held  back 
by  the  influence  of  a  dear  friend — though  rather  impatiently.  Having 
promised  that  he  would  not  engage  in  speculation  in  stocks  at  all  (that 
being  out  of  his  regular  business),  he  thought  he  would  do  the  next 
best  thing — take  a  little  book  and  see  how  it  would  come  out.  So 
every  day  when  stocks  were  in  the  market,  he  would  watch  his  chances, 
and  now  and  then  he  would  say  to  himself,  "  There  is  something  to  be 
made  in  that,  sure ;  and  if  I  could,  I  would  buy  a  hundred  shares ;"  and 
he  would  put  down  a  hundred  shares,  with  the  j^rice ;  and  when  he  had 
a  chance  to  sell  a  certain  number  of  shares  to  a  good  advantage,  he 
would  put  them  down  ;  and  so  he  went  on  charging  and  crediting  him- 
self according  as  he  would  have  dealt  if  he  had  been  allowed  to; 
and  at  the  end  of  four  months  he  summed  the  whole  up,  and  struck  a 
balance,  and  found  that  he  would  have  been  bankrupt  four  times  over 
if  he  had  done  what  he  wanted  to  do !  His  dry  brokerage,  his  book 
brokerage,  satisfied  him ;  and  he  attended  to  his  own  business  with 
more  content  afterwards. 

Now,  if  you  kept  a  little  book,  I  think  it  would  do  you  good.  If 
you  would  keep  a  book,  and  every  day  put  down  the  thuigs  that  pes- 


18  BOBBOWINQ  TROUBLE. 

ter  you,  and  see  what  becomes  of  them,  it  would  be  a  benefit  to  you. 
You  allow  a  thing  to  pester  you,  just  as  you  allow  a  fly  to  settle  on 
you  and  plague  you  ;  and  you  lose  your  temper  (or  rather,  get  it ;  for 
when  men  are  surcharged  with  temper  they  are  said  to  have  lost  it) ; 
and  you  justify  yourselves  for  being  thrown  off  your  balance  by  causes 
which  you  do  not  trace  out.  But  if  you  would  see  what  it  was  that 
threw  you  off  your  balance  before  breakfast,  and  put  it  down  in  a  little 
book,  and  follow  it  up,  and  follow  it  out,  and  ascertain  what  becomes 
of  it,  you  would  see  what  a  fool  you  were  in  the  matter. 

If  you  would  in  your  housekeeping  keep  a  little  book,  not  of  ex- 
penses, but  of  experiences,  in  this  regard,  just  to  see  what  comes  of 
yom*  forebodings  and  unnecessary  cares,  I  think  you  would  find  out, 
in  respect  to  your  real,  every-day  life,  that  nine  parts  in  ten  of  all  the 
things  which  you  bring  into  to-day  from  to-morrow,  and  from  next 
week,  are  superlative  ignorances  and  superlative  impertinences,  and 
that  they  are  unreal. 

But  men  are  so  conceited  that  the  thing  which  they  think  of,  tliey 
think  to  be  true.  This  looming  scare ;  this  annoyance  ;  this  dampening 
and  di'ooping  of  affection  ;  this  bereavement ;  all  these  spectral  things 
which  the  imagination  so  lightly  takes  up — he  does  not  stop  to-day  to 
see  that  they  were  all  mistaken,  but  he  goes  over  the  same  gi'ound  to- 
moiTow,  he  takes  up  the  same  line,  and  allows  himself  to  be  scared  here 
and  there.  And  so  cares,  like  mosquetoes,  pester  him.  Each  of  them 
sucks  a  little  speck  of  blood ;  but  all  of  them  nearly  drain  him  dry. 

Thus  men  wear  themselves  out  by  the  attrition  of  little  things  not 
one  of  which  is  worthy  of  notice,  but  all  of  which  together  scour  like 
emery. 

"We  are  to  consider  that  God  will  give  to  every  man  who  simply 
ti'usts  with  childlike  faith  in  him,  in  his  government,  and  in  his  presence, 
when  trouble  comes  to  a  head,  the  grace  and  the  strength  that  then 
shall  be  requhed. 

I  have  known  persons  who  anxiously  foreboded  their  own  death. 
"How,"  they  said,  "could  I  endure  to  die  and  leave  this  sweet  band  of 
childi-en?  I  do  not  know  what  James  would  do  if  I  were  to  leave 
him?"  James  usually  is  taken  care  of  under  such  chcumstances. 
"What  would  Mary  do"?  It  breaks  my  heart  to  think  that  I  may  die." 
Many  a  mother  has  sat  with  a  slight  cough,  and  with  a  little  hectic  color 
on  her  cheek,  and  studied  as  to  how  she  could  part  with  James  or 
Mary  and  the  little  brothers  and  sisters.  My  friend,  as  long  as  you  are 
alive  and  plump,  it  is  not  your  duty  to  leave  your  dear  ones.  When 
you  are  called  to  leave  those  that  are  dear  to  you,  it  will  be  very  easy 
for  you  to  leave  them. 

In  June,  or  July,  or  August,  when  the  apple  is  green,  you  may  go 


BORROWING  TROUBLE.  19 

out  and  tug  at  it,  and  it  does  not  want  to  leave  the  bough,  and  it  will 
not  leave  the  bough.  A  multitude  of  strings  tie  it  to  the  bough ;  and 
it  says,  "  My  business  is  to  stick  here  till  I  am  ripe."  But  by-and-by 
when  it  is  ripe,  all  those  juices  which  make  the  apple  better,  also 
prepai-e  it  to  let  go.  And  one  after  another  of  the  fibres  of  the  stem 
break,  being  no  longer  requked  to  convey  the  juices  from  the  bough 
to  the  fruit.  And  when,  after  this  preparation,  the  time  aii'ives  for  the 
apple  to  come  off,  down  it  droj^s  so  easy  that  it  does  not  know  what 
made  it  fall. 

In  the  stillness  of  the  night  I  have  lain  in  my  father's  house  in 
Litchfield,  when  it  was  so  still  that  the  silence  ached  in  the  ear,  and 
have  heard  that  sound,  so  joyful  to  the  eager  up-rising  boy — the 
plumping  down  of  the  early  bough-apple  in  the  garden  under  my 
windows.  It  needed  no  wind,  but  only  the  difference  of  the  weight 
of  the  dew  at  night,  to  pluck  it  off  from  the  bough. 

When  the  time  comes  for  men  to  die,  they  die  very  easy,  as  a 
general  rule.  When  your  time  to  die  comes,  and  you  are  to  leave  this 
world,  do  you  supj^ose  the  Lord  Jesus,  who  loves  you  better  than  you 
love  yourself,  has  not  an-anged  everything  so  that  you  wUl  be  willing 
to  go  ?  You  Avant  to  feel  willing  now ;  but  he  does  not  want  you  to  be 
willing.  You  want  to  be  willing  to  leave  your  children  when  God 
wants  you  to  stay  with  them  and  take  care  of  them.  You  have  the 
knowledge,  the  spuit  of  fidelity  and  the  strength  which  qualify  you  foi 
that  work  ;  and  what  are  these  but  indications  that  your  duty  is  to  live 
and  take  care  of  them.  This  equipment  is  a  sign  and  token  that  now, 
to-day,  your 'duties  are  here ;  and  it  is  right  that  at  this  time  you  should 
feel  unwilling  to  die,  though  one  year  hence,  or  one  month  hence,  you 
may  feel,  and  it  may  be  proper  for  you  to  feel  willing  to  die. 

And  how  absurd  is  this  anticipating  what  is  to  come !  When  by 
and-by  God  leads  you  step  by  step,  down  to  the  trouble  which  you  are 
thinking  of,  there  will  have  been  wrought  such  changes,  and  such  pre- 
parations will  have  taken  place,  that  it  will  not  seem  like  a  trouble. 

According  to  my  observation,  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  which 
so  rebukes  forethought  and  anxiety  as  dying.  I  have  seen  the  heads 
of  the  family  go ;  I  have  seen  the  father  and  the  mother  go  ;  "I  have 
been  young  and  now  am  old;  yet  have  I  not  seen  the  righteous  for- 
saken, nor  his  seed  begging  bread."  The  taking  the  heads  of  families, 
is  like  the  sowing  of  wheat.  The  seeds,  being  scattered,  take  root  for 
themselves,  and  grow.  And  children,  when  throAvn  upon  then*  own 
resources,  take  care  of  themselves.  Partridges  know  how  to  do  it  on 
the  mountain;  and  so  do  children  in  the  household,  and  everywhere. 
God  takes  care  of  your  childi-en.  He  took  care  of  them  through  .you 
to-day.     It  may  be  that  he  will  take  care  of  them  without  you  to-mor- 


20  BORROWING  TROUBLE. 

row.  You  may  be  a  good  mother,  whose  children  do  better  with  you 
than  they  would  without  you  ;  but  I  have  seen  children  who  did  better 
after  their  mother  was  gone  than  they  did  before.  At  any  rate,  God 
will  not  forsake  the  children  whose  parents  are  called  to  leave  them. 

When  the  trouble  comes,  Chiist  will  come  with  it.  Never  bear 
your  cross  till  the  cross  is  laid  on  your  shoulder.  Never  cry  about  a 
trouble  until  God  brings  it  to  you,  and  puts  it  on  you.  Then  you  will 
find  that  with  the  troubles  comes  the  preparation,  so  that  they  cease  to 
be  troubles. 

Livingston,  the  traveler,  describes,  in  one  of  his  letters,  his  experi- 
ence when  he  was  struck  down  by  a  lion.  It  has  been  supposed  that 
it  must  be  a  terrible  experience  to  be  in  the  clutches  of  a  lion,  and 
about  to  be  destroyed;  but  he  testifies  that,  when  he  was  set  upon  and 
borne  down  by  a  lion's  spring,  and  seized  in  his  jaws,  and  dragged  by 
him,  from  the  moment  that  he  was  struck  by  the  lion's  paw,  all  fear 
and  all  trouble  left  him.  It  was  a  dream  of  peace  with  him.  His 
intellect  remained,  and  he  supposed  that  he  was  about  to  be  killed ; 
but  he  seemed  to  be  under  a  magnetic  charm  until  sometime  after  he 
was  rescued  by  the  fidelity  of  one  of  his  attendants,  and  the  lion  was 
diiven  off.  He  says  that  when  he  was  in  the  clutches  of  the  lion  he  was 
in  a  state  of  perfect  peace.  It  seemed  as  though  there  was  a  provision 
by  which,  under  the  influence  of  magnetism,  or  mesmerism,  or  some- 
thing of  the  sort,  the  suffering  was  taken  away  from  the  prey  while  it 
was  in  the  jaws  of  the  devourer. 

And  that  which  he  found  to  be  true  in  the  case  of  a  literal  lion, 
thousands  of  men  have  felt  in  the  moral  kingdom.  When  the  lion 
that  they  feared  in  the  way  set  upon  them,  God  either  stoj^ped  his 
mouth,  or  rendered  the  stroke  of  his  paw  painless. 

Our  troubles  are  not  once  in  a  thousand  times  what  we  anticipate 
them  to  be.  Many  of  those  troubles  which  we  are  to  bear,  when  the  day 
comes,  so  far  from  being  what  we  anticipated  they  would  be,  become 
positive  sources  of  enjoyment.  Oh !  that  men  would  derive  from  their 
past  exj^erience  some  little  wisdom  in  respect  to  their  future  !  We  do 
this  in  our  pecuniary  affairs.  If  a  man  by  a  certain  arrangement  makes 
money  once,  he  does  not  undertake  the  same  operation  again  without 
remembering  it,  and  making  the  sanie  kind  of  a  business  turn,  or,  at 
any  rate,  acting  upon  the  same  jn-inciple.  But  in  moral  things  we  have 
the  most  wonderful  experiences — experiences  that  are  very  deep,  very 
sweet,  very  instructive,  very  profitable,  going  right  to  the  very  core  of 
life  itself;  but  afterwards  we  come  into  the  same  exigency,  and  profit 
very  little  from  the  instruction. 

How  many  troubles,  my  friends,  you  have  been  through !  And  the 
Lord  has  sustained  you  in  eveiy  one.     Where  are  the  ti'oubles  of  last 


BOEBOWma  TROUBLE.  21 

year  ?  Look  back  on  them.  How  many  were  there  ?  You  cannot 
count  them.  You  have  only  a  vague  idea  of  them.  You  may  have 
passed  through  bankruptcy,  or  there  may  have  been  a  death  in  your 
family  ;  but  aside  from  these  you  have  no  distinct  recollection  of  the 
troubles  that  you  have  had  within  the  past  year.  That  brood  of  things 
which  lowered  the  whole  tone,  the  temperature,  of  your  spirituality, 
and  made  those  wrinkles  on  your  brow — ^what  became  of  them  ?  Did 
they  hinder  you,  or  hurt  you  % 

I  used,  when  I  was  in  the  West,  and  traveled  on  horseback,  to 
dread,  all  day  long,  the  fords.  I  had  a  peculiar  fear  of  fords,  arising 
from  an  early  experience  in  which  I  was  twice  swept  away,  and  came 
near  losing  my  life.  Though  I  was  courageous  in  most  things,  I  dread- 
ed fords,  so  dark  and  pokerish  did  they  seem  to  me.  In  those  mud- 
rivers  of  the  West,  one  never  knew  when  the  ground  might  shift,  nor 
what  condition  a  certain  ford  would  be  in  when  he  got  to  it.  In  going 
from  place  to  place  the  thought  of  the  fords  I  would  have  to  cross  was 
a  perpetual  torment  to  me.  For  instance,  I  would  go  through  White 
river  all  right,  and  Blue  river  would  be  back  of  me ;  but  there  would 
be  Eel  river  to  come  ;  and  I  could  not  get  thei-e  till  five  or  six  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon  ;  that  was  the  worst  ford  (the  one  that  is  before  is 
always  the  worst).  At  last  I  would  come  to  it ;  and  now  I  would 
brace  myself  up  and  go  across ;  but  instead  of  there  being  a  raging, 
foaming  torrent,  such  as  I  had  imagined,  the  water  would  be  so  low 
that  the  horse  would  not  go  knee -deep  in  any  place.  And  then  I  would 
be  mad  because  it  was  not  deep,  after  I  had  been  fretting  all  day  about 
it!  When  I  came  back  on  the  other  side,  it  would  be  no  comfort 
to  me  that  I  had  lately  crossed  with  so  little  difficulty.  "  To  be  sure," 
I  would  say,  "the  ford  was  not  deep  then  ;  but  it  may  be  now.  How 
do  I  know  but  it  has  been  raining  there  ?"  But  when  I  would  get  to 
the  ford  again,  I  would  find  that  it  was  no  worse  than  it  was  before, 
and  Avould  laugh  at  myself  And  I  never  got  any  wiser.  I  always 
was  afraid  of  a  ford. 

Now,  my  friends,  we,  every  one  of  us,  have  a  ford  somewhere  that 
we  are  crossing  every  day ;  and  we  dread  it  and  dread  it  until  we  get 
to  it ;  and  then  we  go  over  safely ;  but  when  we  get  on  the  other  side 
we  forget  the  lesson ;  and  when  we  come  back  to  it  again  we  come  with 
the  same  dread.  We  are  not  wise  in  the  things  which  relate  to  our 
own  happiness. 

The  backward  look  and  application  of  this  inspired  teaching  is  also 
in  point,  and  valid  for  our  comfort  and  instruction. 

Although  men  mostly  borrow  trouble  from  the  future,  there  are  a 
great  many  persons  who  bring  in  trouble  from  the  past.     Nothing  is 
more  common  than  to  hear  persons  who  have  lost  dear  friends  mourn-  . 
ing  the  past. 


22  BORROWING  TROUBLE. 

One  person  says,  "If  I  had  known,  I  never  would  have  taken  that 
journey.  My  child  never  was  well  afterwards.  And  I  might  have 
known.     I  was  cautioned  by  my  neighbors." 

Another  says,  "  I  ought  not  to  have  had  that  physician.  I  Avas  told 
that  if  I  employed  him  ray  child  would  never  get  well ;  and  I  did  em- 
ploy him.  If  I  had  taken  the  other  doctor,  I  think  I  might  have  had 
my  child  with  me  now." 

Another  says,  "The  child  dropped  off  between  two  o'clock  and  four, 
just  when  I  was  asleep,  though  I  slept  but  ten  minutes.  It  was  wrong 
for  me  to  be  asleep  at  all.  If  I  had  been  awake,  doubtless  I  should 
have  seen  just  the  turn ;  and  if  I  had  stimulated  the  child  just  at  the 
time  when  it  began  to  run  down,  it  probably  Avould  have  rallied.  But 
when  I  awoke  it  was  too  late,  and  the  child  sank,  and  sank,  and  died. 

If  I  could  only "  If,  and  if,  and  if!  These  ifs  are  di'agon's  teeth 

to  most  men. 

Now,  did  not  you  do  ^1  that  you  could  ?  Did  not  you  do  the  best 
that  you  knew  how  ?  Did  not  your  heart  prompt  you  to  do  everything 
in  your  power?  Did  not  you  bring  all  that  God  gave  you  to  that  hour? 
Even  if  you  made  a  mistake,  are  we  not  permitted  to  make  mistakes  ? 
All  men  make  mistakes.  I  make  many  of  them,  and  so  do  you.  I  do 
not  understand  all  the  laws  of  life,  and  you  do  not.  And  it  is  not  sur- 
prising that  this  and  that  symptom  were  neglected.  If  we  were  om- 
niscient and  omnipotent,  it  would  have  been  different.  But  we  are  fin- 
ite, peccable  creatures.  And  you  did  the  best  you  could.  Why  not, 
therefore,  shut  up  that  chapter  of  experience,  and  let  it  go  ?  Why  mourn 
and  carry  heavy  griefs  on  account  of  the  troubles  of  the  past  ?  It  is  not 
wise.     "Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof." 

But  time  draws  on.  Let  me  say,  in  closing,  that  the  grace  which 
we  need  to  enable  us  to  avoid  borrowing  trouble  from  the  past,  and  to 
avoid  bori-owing  trouble  from  the  future,  is  a  divine  grace.  So  are  we 
fevered  with  life,  so  are  we  beset  with  a  thousand  provocations,  so  are 
we  subject  to  the  whims  and  caprices  of  the  circle  in  which  we  live,  so 
are  we  stimulated  and  excited  by  the  very  way  in  which  life  is  organ- 
ized, from  which  we  cannot  separate  ourselves,  and  with  which  we  ai'e 
obliged  to  be  in  sympatliy,  that  no  man  can  be  calm,  contented,  sweet- 
minded  and  triumphant  in  the  present  hour,  unless  he  brings  more  than 
his  own  philosophy  to  bear. 

A  man  said  to  me  this  last  week,  "  When  I  go  to  bed  at  night,  I 
say  to  myself,  I  have  done  the  best  I  knew  how  all  day,  and  I  leave 
the  rest  with  God."  Brave  man !  That  is  the  meaning  of  Cast  all 
your  care  upon  the  Lord,  for  he  careth  for  you.  Lay  your  burdens 
upon  him,  and  he  will  take  care  of  all  your  mistakes,  not  only,  but  of 
all  your  wisdoms,  and  of  your  successes  therein.     His  nature  is  benefit 


BORROWING  TROUBLE.  23 

cent ;  and  Chiist  says,  "  The  very  haii-s  of  your  head  are  all  numbered." 
Philosopher,  you  may  cipher  that  out.  He  says  that  not  a  sparrow 
falls  to  the  ground  without  the  leathers  notice.  Physicist,  fix  that  to 
suit  yourself.  I  tell  you,  I  am  not  going  to  live  without  a  God,  and  a 
God  that  is  better  to  me  than  I  am  to  my  children.  He  has  called  him- 
self my  Father,  and  he  has  told  me  to  call  him  Fathei* — and  I  will.  He 
has  told  me  that  everything  is  naked  and  open  before  him.  He  has 
told  me  that  he  is  bringing  me  up  through  trouble  and  suffering  for 
eternal  life  and  immortal  glory,  and  I  believe  it.  All  that  is  generous 
and  manly  in  me,  and  all  that  in  me  which  has  aspiration  for  dignity 
and  honor,  makes  me  believe  that  I  am  being  conducted  through  this 
great  and  strange  world  by  an  all-guiding  Father,  for  the  sake  of  mak- 
ing me  worthy  to  be  his  Son  in  the  kingdom  of  his  glory.  And  I  will 
have  the  benefit  of  that  belief  I  will  bring  down  my  Father  into  each 
particular  day,  and  say,  "  The  providence  of  this  day  is  thine.  Manage 
it  as  thou  wilt.  I  do  not  seek  to  j^ry  behind  the  philosophy  and  find 
out  how  it  is.  Sufiicient  is  it  that  I  may  cry  and  thou  wilt  hear.  It  is 
enough  that  I  may  cast  mybm'den  on  thee,  and  that  thou  wilt  take  care 
of  me."  It  is  enough  that  the  voices  of  thousands  of  witnesses  in  every 
age  have  risen  up  and  said,  "  We  have  cast  our  burdens  and  cares  on 
the  Lord,  and  he  has  sustained  us."  It  is  the  living  testimony  of  the 
church  universal,  and  it  is  the  testimony  of  scores  and  hundreds  in  this 
church — of  many  a  father  and  mother,  and  husband  and  wife,  and  bro- 
ther and  sister ;  of  many  a  professional  man ;  of  many  a  man  of  busi- 
ness ;  of  many  a  mechanic ;  of  many  a  sea-faring  man  or  day-laborer — 
that  say,  "  In  my  rising  up  and  in  my  lying  down,  in  my  going  out 
and  in  my  coming  in,  in  all  the  exigencies  of  life,  I  have  waited  on  the 
Lord,  and  he  has  succored  me  in  the  day  of  trouble."  Ivrill  never 
leave  thee  nor  forsake  thee,  is  the  promise ;  and  the  aj^plication  of  the 
apostle  is.  So  that  I  may  boldly  say,  The  Lord  is  my  helper,  and  I 
will  not  fear  what  man  shall  do  unto  me. 

To  disarm  life  thus  of  all  unnecessary  cares  and  fears — how  blessed 
the  task !  how  sweet  the  prerogative  !  How  wise  it  is  for  a  man  to 
say,  "My  duties,  my  sorrows  and  my  joys,  for  this  day,  are  simply 
within  the  horizons  of  this  day.  I  will  take  care  of  to-day  faithfully. 
For,  sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof!"  How  wise  it  is  for  a 
man  so  to  live  until  the  last  and  the  ransoming  day  comes,  when  God 
shall  lift  us  into  that  land  which  is  without  a  cloud,  and  without  a  care, 
and  without  a  sorrow,  and  when  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is,  and  be  like 
him! 

Christian  brethren,  hold  on  a  little  while  longer.  Let  God  turn 
over  the  leaves  of  the  book  of  life  for  you ;  read  contentedly  what  is 
wi'itten  thereon,  and  do  not  seek  to  interline  nor  erase. 


24  BOBRowma  trouble. 

Let  God  manage  my  afiiiirs  for  me.  Let  him  bviug  me  soitow,  or 
exemption  from  sorrow.  Let  him  bring  me  care,  or  release  from  care. 
It  is  his  heart  that  loves,  and  his  heart  that  guides,  and  his  heart  that 
is  preparing  me  for  the  kingdom  of  glory.  It  is  enough  for  me  that 
my  Father  is  taking  care  of  me.  So  I  will  sing  in  sorrow,  and  I  shall 
find  the  light  in  darkness,  and  victory  in  defeat,  and  joy  through  life 
and  in  death,  and  glory  beyond. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMOK 

We  thank  thee,  our  Father,  for  all  the  greatness  of  that  help  which  thou 
hast  manifested,  and  which  thou  art  willing  to  bestow.  Thou  hast  set  be- 
fore us  the  door  of  opportunity.  Thou  hast  in  all  our  exigencies  provided 
relief,  and  succored  us  in  our  wanderings.  We  are  graciously  restored  by  the 
Shepherd.  We  rejoice  that  we  are  safe,  and  that  we  are  victorious,  and  that 
we  shall  yet  appear  in  Zion  and  before  God — though  not  by  the  merit  of 
our  own  wisdom,  and  not  because  our  strength  is  adequate,  and  not  because 
we  have  the  wisdom  of  goodness.  We  recognize  our  sinfulness,  and  the 
weakness  that  springs  from  it.  We  recognize  our  ignorance  Avhich  is  itself 
a  sin,  in  things  pertaining  to  God  and  to  duty,  in  the  midst  of  that  great 
light  in  which  we  have  always  dwelt.  We  recognize  our  helplessness.  Al- 
though we  were  clothed  with  power  adequate  to  all  our  needs,  yet  we  have 
weakened  ourselves;  we  have  by  disuse  rendered  that  power  no  longer  avail- 
able. We  are  strong  in  single  things ;  but  for  all  the  duties  of  life  how 
feeble  and  how  poor  are  we  !  It  is  because  thou,  O  Lord,  by  thy  providence 
and  by  thy  grace,  hast  vmdertaken  for  us,  that  we  are  confident  both  of  vic- 
tory here  and  of  salvation  hereafter.  It  is  the  love  which  is  like  summer  to 
our  souls,  it  is  the  fidelity  of  the  divine  and  infinite  love,  it  is  the  wisdom 
unsearchable  and  past  finding  out,  of  our  all-guiding  God,  that  shall  bring 
us  safely  through.  And  so  our  trust  for  ourselves  is  not  in  our  wisdom  nor 
in  ourselves  at  all.  By  the  grace  of  God  we  are  what  we  are ;  and  that 
same  grace  shall  make  us  whatever  we  shall  attain  unto  in  all  the  blessed- 
ness of  the  coming  world,  where  ignorance  ceases;  where  knowledge  begins; 
where  all  joy  shall  begin  to  spring  from  pure  founts  inexhaustible.  There, 
in  our  renewed  existence,  we  shall  be  made  worthy  by  the  faithfulness,  the 
love,  the  kind  and  nourishing  care,  of  him  who  gave  himself  for  us,  that  he 
might  ransom  us,  and  present  us  without  spot  or  blemish  before  God. 

We  rejoice  in  thy  goodness,  Lord  Jesus.  We  are  thy  disciples.  We  fol- 
low thee  too  often  afar  ofl";  yet  we  are  thine,  and  we  would  be  filled  by  no 
other  name.  We  would  be  found  among  thy  people.  We  would  evermore 
trust  thee.  Thou  art  here  our  solace,  our  example,  our  inspiration.  Thee 
we  follow  in  the  way  of  self-denial  and  in  the  way  of  suffering.  We  would 
follow,  also,  in  the  valley  and  the  shadow  of  death,  and  fear  no  evil  there, 
because  thou  art  with  us,  and  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  comfort  us.  We  rise 
beyond  into  the  certainty  of  immortality  through  thy  divine  power ;  and  so 
shall  we  not  praise  thee  and  worship  thee  ?  Shall  we  not  put  thy  name 
above  every  other  name,  and  glory  in  it  ? 

Wc  rejoice,  O  Lord  our  God,  that  thou  hast  taught  so  many  the  secret 
way  of  life;  the  hidden  joy  ;  that  thou  hast  caused  thy  name  to  be  known 


BORROWING  TROUBLE.  25 

unto  them  as  it  is  not  known  unto  others.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt 
nourish  in  every  such  one  the  divine  and  secret  life  of  the  soul's  innermost 
experience.  Grant  that  such  may  grow  strong  in  hope,  and  in  love,  and  in 
patience,  and  in  all  suffering.  And  grant  that  they  may  learn  to  rejoice  in 
infirmity  and  in  trouble,  and  to  hear  every  day  their  cross  cheerfully.  Grant 
that  they  may  by  faith  annihilate  time,  and  see  the  heavenly  life  begun  even 
to-day,  and  begin  that  song  which  in  sweet  and  inspired  strains  we  shall 
complete  in  the  heavenly  land. 

If  thy  people  are  vehemently  tempted,  grant  that  they  may  be  rescued 
from  temptation,  and  that  the  tempter  may  be  driven  away.  If  any  of  them 
are  sitting  in  the  shadow,  bring  light  to  them,  and  bring  forth  the  day  out 
of  the  twilight.  Iftherebeany  hearts  that  are  burdened  with  care,  that 
cannot  carry  themselves  happily,  nor  sing  by  reason  of  the  troubles  of  the 
way.  Oh  !  teach  them  how  to  cast  away  these  troubles  ;  how  to  gain  vic- 
torious joy.  Deign  to  remember  them,  and  to  sustain  them  by  the  grace  of  ' 
God  in  their  souls. 

We  pray  that  the  example  of  thy  people  may  be  such  as  to  win  men  unto 
the  Christian  life.  May  they  behold  their  sincerity,  their  uprightness,  their 
gladness  of  heart,  their  exceeding  great  hope  of  the  future.  May  they 
behold  how  thy  people  conquer  the  life  that  now  is.  May  they  behold  them 
too,  in  sickness,  conquering  it,  and  in  death  triumjihant.  And  so  may  the 
holy  living  and  the  holy  dying  of  thy  people  be  a  perpetual  lesson  and 
gospel  to  those  who  are  without. 

We  pray  t  hat  thou  wilt  bless  those  to-day  who  are  gathered  together  in 
thy  churches.  May  they  have  communion  with  God.  May  thy  servants  that 
are  appointed  to  teach  them  and  comfort  them,  be  themselves  greatly  com- 
forted and  instructed  from  on  high.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  make  thy  peo- 
ple everywhere  more  and  more  of  one  mind.  May  love  prevail,  and  overcome 
reason,  and  overcom  ^  conscience,  and  subdue  them  both  to  its  sway.  May 
love  conquer  all  things.  And  may  men  learn  both  to  believe  and  speak  the 
truth  in  love,  and  in  love  to  be  just,  and  in  love  to  discriminate,  to  smite  in 
love,  and  to  bind  up  in  love,  and  so  to  be  sons  of  God,  who  is  Love. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  our  land,  and  all  lands.  And  spread  intel- 
ligence abroad  everywhere.  Liberate  the  reason  of  men,  and  guide  it  by  the 
divine  Spirit.  We  pray  that  all  machinations  for  the  enthrallment  of  the 
human  understanding,  for  the  ensnaring  of  men's  consciences,  may  come  to 
naught.  Wilt  thou  overturn  and  overturn  till  He  whose  right  it  is  shall 
come  and  reign,  and  all  the  earth  see  thy  salvation. 

We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake.     Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  beseech  thee  that  thou  wilt  uphold  us  by  thy  promises, 
and  by  the  trust  that  our  hearts  have  in  thee.  To  whom  shall  we  go  but 
unto  thee  ?  We  will  not  plunge  into  the  abyss  of  unbelief.  We  will  not  go 
into  that  dark  and  dreary  land  of  skepticism.  We  will  have  our  God.  Our 
hearts  crown  thee.  Thou  art  the  necessity  of  our  life.  We  rejoice  that 
thou  dost  make  us,  and  so  make  us  that  we  must  make  thee  again  to  our 
imagination. 

And  now  Lord,  we  give  into  thy  hand  and  care  everything  that  is  need- 
ful for  our  best  estate.  We  accord  to  thee  foresight  and  faithfulness  and 
care-bearing  love.  Thou  art  the  Father,  and  thou  art  the  Mother.  In  thee 
are  all  those  thing  o=  which  we  divide  and  call  by  diflfering  names.  All  loves 
go  back  to  thee,  and  are  unitized  in  thee.  All  carefulnss,  and  all  gen- 
tleness, and  all  generosity,  and  all  tenderness,  and  all  triumeph  of  love  are  in 


26  BORROWING  TROUBLE. 

thee,  and  flow  forth  from  thine  administration  in  this  world,  and  shall  for- 
ever and  forever.  And  our  trust  is  not  in  ourselves.  It  is  not  in  this,  that 
we  are  able  to  endure  what  must  come,  and  what  we  cannot  be  rid  of  Our 
trust  is  in  this,  that  the  dear,  sweet  God  loves  us,  and  by  perpetual  minis-, 
trations  is  preparing  us  for  the  heavenly  home.  And  so  we  endure ;  and  so 
we  1  ejoice  even  in  trouble. 

And  now,  Lord,  we  pray  thee,  accept  our  thanks  for  all  the  goodness 
of  days  that  are  past.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  accept  the  consecration 
which  we  make  of  the  hours  yet  to  come.  Ours  they  are  not  yet ;  but  we 
remit  them  to  thee.  We  will  not  invade  them.  Grant  that  we  may  live 
every  day,  writing  upon  the  threshold  of  all  our  labor  and  care,  Sufficient 
unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise  forever  and  ever.    Amen. 


n. 

Witnessing  for  Christ. 


INVOCATION. 


March  20, 1870- 

VOUCHSAFE  to  tis  thy  divine  presence  and  power,  our  Father,  by 
which  we  may  rise  above  our  natural  life  into  our  true  life  of  manhood 
in  Christ  Jesus.  May  we  understand  invisible  things.  May  our  inward  per 
ception  be  more  to  us  than  our  outward  senses.  This  day  shine  by  thy 
gracious  Spirit,  with  soul-light,  so  thaft  we  may  behold  thee  as  thou  art,  and 
rejoice  m  thee,  offering  up  thanksgiving  and  praise.  May  we  be  accepted 
and  helped  by  thee  in  all  the  services  of  devotion  and  instruction.  May  we 
be  divinely  guided  and  inspired.  May  the  hours  of  this  day,  at  home,  in  the 
sanctuary,  everywhere,  be  hours  with  God,  in  which  our  souls  shall  greatly 
rejoice  in  the  Lord.    We  ask  it  for  Ch-'ict's  sake.    Amen. 

2 


WITNESSING  FOE  CHRIST. 


"  Howbeit  Jesus  suffered  him  not,  but  saith  unto  him.  Go  home  unto  thy  friends,  and  te  i 
them  how  great  things  the  Lord  hath,  dime  for  thee,  aud  hath  had  compassiou  on  thee."— > 
Makk  V.  19. 


This  answer  was  in  reply  to  an  affecting  apj)eal  on  the  part  of  tho, 
man  whose  cure  furnishes  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  scenes  in  tha 
whole  history  of  the  Gospel.  It  w.as  that  poor  wretch  who  lived  in 
tlie  tombs,  and  desolate  places,  cutting  himself,  crying  day  and  night, 
stronger  than  armed  men,  stronger  than  chains  and  cords,  and  who, 
having  gone  through  this  terrific  experience,  was  healed  by  Christ. 
And  it  is  said  of  them,  after  the  healing,  "  When  he  (Christ)  was  come 
unto  the  ship,  he  that  had  been  possessed  with  the  devil  prayed  him 
that  he  might  be  with  him." 

There  is  something  touching  in  tliat  clinging  desire.  Doubtless 
every  tenderest  feeling  of  gratitude  was  awakened  in  the  heart  of  this 
man,  and  he  clung  to  Christ  with  a  true  love.  We  may  also  believe — ; 
and  it  is  not  inconsistent  with  love — that  feai"  mingled  with  it.  That 
he  was  healed  by  this  man  he  knew ;  but  if  he  should  go  away,  how 
did  he  know  but  his  old  enemy  might  take  possession  of  him  again  ? 
He  was  safe  under  the  eye  of  Christ,  and  he  felt  safe  nowhere  else.  It 
was  not,  therefore,  nm-easonable  for  him  to  beg  that  he  might  dwell 
with  him.     But,  after  all,  horne  was  for  him  a  place  of  safety. 

It  is  to  be  remarked  that  om*  Saviour,  in  selecting  his  disciples,  did 
not,  in  any  single  instance  (I  do  not  recall  one)  select  a  man  who  had 
received  great  j^ersonal  favor  at  his  hand. 

He  selected  none  out  of  whom  he  had  cast  diseases  or  demons.  He 
selected  those  who,  though  they  were  humble,  came  to  him  without 
special  obligation.  W^hether  he  thought  that  such  an  one  was  not  a  fit 
.^person  to  be  in  the  disciple -band;  Avhether  he  thought  that  no  one 
who  had  had  an  infirmity  should  be  ranked  in  any  sense  as  a  teacher, 
Ave  are  not  informed.  At  any  rate,  when  the  man  begged  to  go  with 
him,  he  answered,  "  Go  home  to  thy  friends,  and  tell  them  how  great 
things  the  Lord  hath  done  for  thee,  and  hath  had  compassion  on  thee." 

To  do  this  was  itself  a  kind  of  assurance,  a  preservative,  to  him.    It 

Sunday  MoRNiXG,  March  20, 1870.  Lesson:  Luke  XVIH— 19.  Hymns  (Plymouth  Colleo- 
tion):  Kos.  170,  603,  666. 


28  WITNESSING  FOB  CHRIST. 

was  just  the  jilace  that  a  restored  man  ought  to  have  gone  to,  not  sim- 
ply from  considerations  of  liis  own  personal  safety  and  well-being,  but 
from  considerations  of  gratitude.  Those  who  had  borne  with  him,  who 
had  sacrificed  much  for  him,  who  had  suffered  on  his  account,  had  a 
right  to  the  joy  of  his  recovery  ;  and  it  is  a  rare  touch  of  human  feeling 
in  the  Saviour,  that  he  sends  this  man  back  home,  first,  to  comfort 
them.     "  Go  let  them  know  what  the  Lord  hath  done  for  you." 

Our  Master  was  especially  sensitive  to  the  recognition  of  gratitude. 
When  he  performed  a  work  of  mercy,  he  desired  that  men  should  con- 
fess it — make  it  known.  That  they  would  recognize  it  to  his  face  was 
not  to  be  doubted  ;  but  he  wanted  them  to  make  it  known  to  others. 
There  are  special  occasions  of  exception,  where  the  jealousy  of  the 
government  was  so  extreme  that  the  least  addition  to  the  popular  ex- 
citement might  carry  it  over  the  bounds,  and  give  occasion  to  the  Ro- 
man army  to  fiill  upon  the  Jews,  and  butcher  them. 

In  certain  cases,  out  of  motives  of  humanity,  the  Saviour  sometimes 
charged  men  not  to  tell  any  one  of  the  mu-acles  that  he  had  performed 
in  their  behalf  Under  such  circumstances  the  reason  was  one  of  hu- 
manity, and  was  local  and  si^ecial.  But  generally,  when  there  was  no 
such  harm  to  be  apprehended,  the  Saviour,  on  the  other  hand,  com- 
manded men  to  make  known  theii*  experience,  and  the  part  Avhich 
God  had  had  in  it. 

It  is  from  this  narrative,  and  this  general  statement,  that  I  propose, 
this  morning,  to  speak  on  tli^e  duty  of  witnessing  to  Christ's  work  in 
us.  It  is  just  as  incumbent  now,  as  it  was  in  his  own  day.  It  is  just 
as  incumbent  in  respect  to  spiritual  things  as  it  was  with  regard  to 
physical  mercies. 

In  general,  every  man  who  believes  himself  to  be  a  Christian,  is 
bound  to  make  such  public  acknowledgment  that  men  shall  know  the 
source  of  his  godly  life.  There  is  a  vague  popular  impression  that  a 
man  should  join  a  church,  and  there  are  good  cautionary  reasons  why 
he  should  ;  but  that,  it  seems  to  me,  is  not  the  most  felicitous  way  of 
putting  it.  Every  man  who  is  conscious  that  his  character  has  been 
brought  under  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  is  bound  to  let  men 
know  that  the  life  Avhich  is  flowing  out  from  him  now  is  not  his  own 
natural  life,  but  one  which  proceeds  from  the  Spirit  of  God.  He  is 
bound  to  make  a  public  witness  and  testimony  that  the  woik  of  mor- 
ality, of  virtue,  of  spiritual  fervor,  of  higher  manhood,  to  which  he  has 
been  called,  and  in  which  he  is  beginning  to  live,  is  a  divine  work, 
and  not  one  that  sj^rings  from  a  lower  form  of  natural  causes,  or  from 
natural  causes  only. 

This  Avould  seem  too  obvious  for  remark,  did  not  fiicts  show  that 
multitudes  of  men  endeavor  to  live  Christianly,  but  are  very  cautious 


WITNESSING  FOR  CHUIST.  29 

about  saying  that  they  are  Christians — and  from  shame-faced  reasons, 
sometimes;  from  reasons  of  fear,  sometimes;  from  reasons  of  pride, 
sometimes.  Men  who  are  endeavoring  to  live  Christianly  say,  often, 
"Let  my  example  speak,  and  not  my  lips."  Why  should  not  a  man's 
lips  and  example  both  sjDeak  ?  Why  should  not  a  man  interpret  hia 
example  ?  Why  should  a  man  leave  it  to  be  inferred,  in  this  world,  that 
he  is  living  simply  by  the  power  of  his  own  will  ?  Why  should  he 
leave  it  for  men  to  point  to  him,  and  say,  "  There  is  a  man  of  a  well- 
regulated  life  who  holds  his  temper  aright ;  but  see,  it  is  on  account  of 
the  household  that  he  has  around  him  ;  it  is  on  account  of  the  com^ 
panionship  that  he  keeps  ;  it  is  on  account  of  the  valorous  purpose 
which  he  has  fashioned  in  his  own  mind" — thus^iving  credit  to  these 
secondary  causeSj^  and  not  to  that  divine  inspiration,  that  power  from 
on  high,  which  gives  to  all  secondary  causes  their  efficiency  ?  When 
the  lines  are  drawn  in  this  world,  and  there  are  but  two  parties — one 
compris;ing  those  that  live  by  the  Spirit,  and  the  other  those  that  live 
by  the  flesh — why  should  a  man  live  by  the  divine  Spirit,  and  yet  not 
give  credit  to  the  Spirit,  by  which  he  lives  ? 

A  physician  has  a  right  to  the  testimony  of  every  man  that  he  heals. 
In  proportion  to  the  desperateness  of  the  disease  which  he  has  healed, 
he  has  a  right  to  an  oj^en  and  wide-spread  credit  for  the  skill  which  he 
has  displayed. 

The  excuses  are  invalid  which  men  make  for  withholding  this  open 
profession  of  faith  in  Chiist  Jesus.  Not  only  are  they  invalid,  but  they 
are  dangerous. 

The  uncertainty  of  the  result  is  one  reason  that  holds  men  back. 
They  do  not  wish  to  he  'premature.  They  do  not  vnsh  to  bring  dis-' 
grace  upon  the  cause  of  Christ  by  not  continuing.  They  express  them- 
selves in  this  delicate  way.  It  is  as  if  I  should  rescue  a  man  from  drown- 
ing, and  he  should  say  to  me,  quietly,  and  secretly,  "I  thank  you  now; 
but  I  do  not  wish  to  commit  myself  openly  to  giving  you  credit,  lest  I 
should  not  hold  out  in  this  grateful  strain  of  my  life.  You  have  been, 
my  benefactor,  and  have  saved  me ;  but  I  want  to  see  if  the  impression 
lasts  with  n^e  before  I  confess  it  publicly."  What  will  make  the  im- 
pression last  but  being  true  to  it  ? 

A  man  says,  "I  believe  that  I  have  entered  upon  a  Christian  life.. 
If  I  understand  my  own  thoughts,  if  I  know  my  own  settled  purpose,, 
it  is  that  hereafter  I  will  accept  the  law  and  the  example  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  as  the  rule  of  my  life.  I  am  determined  to  acknow- 
ledge my  allegiance  to  him,  and  hold  myself  responsible  for  living  in^ 
accordance  with  his  will.  But  let  me  see  how  I  succeed  for  a  time,,  be-  [ 
fore  I  let  it  be  known."  Ah  !  look  well  to  your  heart.  It  is  true  that; 
you  may  be  actuated  by  a  worthy  motive,  though  it  be  a  mistaken  ©ne„ 


30  wiTNESsma  for  Christ. 

for  making  this  excuse ;  but  it  is  more  likely  than  not  that  you  will  fin3 
a  sinister  motive  coiled  up  in  it  as  well.  While  you  talk  of  fear  of 
bringing  disgrace  on  the  cause  of  Christ,  is  there  not  underneath  that 
the  fear  of  bringing  disgrace  on  yourself,  by  falling  away  from  an  open 
confession?  While  you  speak  of  not  wishing  to  xoound  Christ  in 
the  house  of  his  friends,  may  it  not  be  that  you  are  afraid  of  wound- 
ing yourself  in  the  house  of  your .  companions  or  friends  ?  While  you 
seek  to  be  rooted  and  grounded  i?i  the  faith  before  you  openly  prof  ess 
it,  may  it  not  be,  after  all,  that  you  are  leaving  the  root  in  diy  ground, 
without  water  or  nourishment ;  and  that,  for  lack  of  that  commitment, 
which  you  now  need  more  than  you  will  at  any  other  time — for  lack 
of  firmness,  and  openness,  and  manliness — you  may  go  back  upon  your 
steps  ? 
»jj  The  time  to  make  known  a  man's  purpose  is  when  it  is  freshly 

/  "formed.  And  surely,  no  man  need  say,  "  I  have  occasion  to  wait  and 
consider,"  who  has  been  taught  in  religion  fiDm  the  morning  of  his  life. 
In  the  case  of  a  heathen  child  that  might  be  a  wise  purpose ;  but  you 
who  have  been  brought  up  in  the  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  ;  you 
who  have  had  doctrine  exercised  upon  your  reason  perpetually  for  scores 
of  years;  you  who  have  thought  of  religion  in  its  relation  to  the  time 
that  now  is,  and  in  its  relation  to  the  time  which  is  to  come — you  need 
to  wait  lest  you  should  be  precipitate?  You,  after  thirty  or  forty  years 
~bf  instruction  and  vehement  m-ging,  need  to  wait  lest  you  be  precipi- 
tate ?  Why,  there  is  no  man  that  can  be  precipitate  who  has  always 
lived  in  a  Christian  community,  and  had  Christian  instruction.  It  is 
not  possible  to  take  you  suddenly  and  unawares.  You  are  full  enough 
of  knowledge  to  make  a  simple  beginning,  and,  making  a  beginning,  to 
make  an  announcement  of  it. 

But  while  this  general  confession  is  sound  and  obligatory,  the  em- 
phasis and  weight  of  this  discourse  I  desu-e  to  rest  upon  what  I  may 
«all  the  duty  of  a  more  particular  or  personal  acknowledgment, — a 
more  specific  testimony  to  the  help  which  men  have  received  at  the 
Siands  of  the  Lord. 

In  the  first  place,  there  is  a  mode  in  which  men  can  bear  testimony 
to  their  own  conversion,  to  its  need,  and  to  its  reality.  I  suppose  that 
Dr.  Chalmer's  conversion  has  been  blessed  as  much  as  any  of  his  ser- 
mons, and  perhaps  more,  to  the  conversion  of  others.  He  was  a  man 
-who  had  true  ideas  of  morality,  based  on  the  Socinian  doctrine.  He 
was  a  man  of  great  power ;  of  great  imagination ;  and  in  the  early 
part  of  his  ministry  he  had  all  the  qualifications  necessary  to  make 
him  a  leader  of  his  age  in  the  Chiistian  Church.  But  later  than  that 
he  was  convinced  of  his  lowness  in  the  Christian  life,  he  was  convicted 
-of  sin,  before  God,  he  wrestled  in  distress  of  mind,  and  he  finally  threw 


WITNESSma  FOR  CHRIST.  31 

himself  on  the  mercy  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  was  brought  out  of  dark- 
ness into  great  light.  And  then,  from  that  moment,  began  the  real 
power  of  his  Christian  ministry.  It  was  this  personal  Pentecost  which 
brought  him  out  into  the  open  day,  that  was  largely  the  secret  of  that 
saviug  influence  which  he  afterwards  exerted  upon  others.  And  the 
gtatement  of  that  fact  has  been  very  powerful  ever  since — the  fact, 
namely,  that  a  man  may  be  a  good  man,  a  true  man,  a  preacher  of  the 
truth,  and  the  doer  of  a  great  deal  of  good,  without  having  reached 
the  very  beginning  of  a  Christian  experience.  This  after-experience 
of  enlightenment,  this  lifting  him  up  into  a  higher  sphere,  has  been  a 
very  great  power  all  over  the  world,  to  arouse  men  to  a  sense  of  the 
danger  of  rooting  themselves  upon  a  mere  morality.  Not  that  morality 
is  to  be  despised,  but  morality  compared  to  religion  is  what  leaves  are 
compared  to  fruit.  Though  the  leaves  are  necessary  to  the  fruit,  they 
are  not  themselves  the  finiit. 

Now,  because  a  man  may  use  this  improperly,  we  ought  not  to  infer 
that  he  should  not  use  it  at  all.  If  God  has  revealed  himself  to  you ;  if 
\  there  has  been  an  experience  by  which  you  have  been  made  to  know 
/  the  hidden  evil  of  your  life  ;  if  you  have  consented  to  be  the  Lord 
I  Jesus  Christ's,  and  if  there  has  been  a  conscious  change  and  elevation 
)  of  your  life,  the  fact  of  this  conversion  should  be  testified  to.  Others 
(  should  know  it.  Sometimes  it  may  be  proper  to  state  it  in  a  public 
)  gathering,  or  in  a  social  circle ;  but  from  man  to  man  one  of  the  most 
powerful  instruments  that  you  can  employ  for  the  conversion  of  others, 
(  is  the  relation  of  that  personal  history  which  God  has  given  to  you. 
\  If  you  talk  with  men,  that  in  you  which  has  been  an  experience  is  the 
^  most  powerful  to  them. 

/        Two  men  come  together,  one  of  whom  is  shnmk  and  crippled  with 

J  a  rheumatic  affection,  and  the  other  of  whom  is  walking  in  health 

I  and  comfort ;  and  the  well  man  says  to  the  other,  "  My  friend,  I  know 

I  how  to  pity  you.     I  spent  fifteen  as  wretched  years  as  any  man  ever 

spent  in  the  world.     I,  too,  was  a  miserable  cripple,  in  the  same  way 

)    that  you  are."     And  the  man  with  rheumatism  at  once  says,  "You 

I    were  f     He  sees  him  walk ;  he  sees  how  lithe  and  nimble  he  is ;  he 

\  sees  that  he  can  straighten  out  his  limbs,  and  that  his  joints  are  not 

swollen  ;  he  sees  that  he  is  in  the  enjoyment  of  all  his  bodily  powers ; 

I  and  he  is  eager  to  know  more  about  it.     "  Yes,  I  was  as  bad  off  as  you 

I  are,  and  I  suffered  everything."     "Tell  me  what  cured  you."     There 

is  nothing  that  a  man  wants  to  hear  so  much  as  the  histoiy  of  one  who 

has  been  cured,  if  he,  too,  is  a  sufferer. 

This  is  so,  not  only  where  the  suffering  is  physical,  but  also  where 
it  is  spiritual.  It  is  so  where  a  man  suffers  from  sinful  dispositions, 
and  is  discouraged,  hopeless.     Eveiybody  makes  some  fight  against 


32  WITNESSING  FOn  CHRIST. 

the  evil  that  is  in  him,  at  times.  Everybody  has  some  hours  in  whic} 
he  wishes  he  could  be  free  from  the  body  of  death  to  which  he  iis 
chahied.  Everybody  that  is  living  in  sin,  if  he  meet  a  man  whom  he 
believes  to  be  honest  and  sincere,  and  who  says,  "  I,  too,  was  once  dis- 
eased, as  you  are ;  I,  like  you,  was  under  the  condemnation  of  sin  " — 
eveiybody,  under  such  circumstances,  has  that  in  him  which  leads  him 
to  want  to  know  how  relief  has  been  obtained.  And  if  you  can  tell 
men  that  are  in  bondage  to  sin  what  God  has  done  for  your  soul, 
clearly,  intelligently,  discreetly,  the  history  of  your  experience  is  prob- 
ably more  gospel  to  them  than  you  could  preach  in  any  other  way. 

We  send  out  men  to  bear  witness  for  Christ.  It  is  the  Christ  in 
them — so  far  as  he  is  in  them — that  they  are  to  preach.  It  is  not  the 
theological  Christ,  necessarily,  it  is  not  necessarily  the  Christ  of  the 
Gospel,  it  is  not  even  the  Gospel,  alone,  that  is  to  be  taught.  Your  spe- 
cialty in  teaching  is  Christ  in  you  the  hope  of  glory.  How  much  has 
been  turned  into  personal  experience,  how  much  God  has  manifested 
himself  as  able  to  save  you  from  sin — this  is  the  Christ,  this  is  the 
Gospel,  that  you  need  to  preach. 

This  man  whom  Christ  had  healed  went  back  to  Decapolis,  where 
he  belonged,  and  began  to  publish  all  through  that  region  what  the 
Lord  had  done  for  him.  It  is  not  likely  that  he  undertook  to  explain 
what  Christ  was,  or  what  other  works  of  mercy  he  had  done.  He 
doubtless  said,  "  Here  I  am  before  you — I,  that  miserable  demoniac  ; 
I,  that  poor  creature  that  raged,  and  foamed,  and  cast  off  all  bonds, 
and  all  raiment,  and  went  out  from  society,  and  lived  in  tombs. 
Wretch  that  I  was,  Jesus  saw  me,  and  had  compassion  on  me.  He 
spoke  the  word,  and  my  enemies  departed,  and  I  was  restored  to  my 
right  mind.  Here  I  am  rational.  Here  I  am  wholesome  and  healthy. 
Here  I  am  happy  again.  And  Jesus  did  it!  Jesus  did  it !"  Through 
all  the  towns  and  villages  of  Decapolis  this  man  preached  Jesus,  declar- 
ing that  he  had  power  to  save  men  from  the  demons  that  possessed 
them. 

There  are  multitudes  of  men  who  have  been  convicted  of  their 
sins,  and  have  been  lifted  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost  out  of  their 
state  of  condemnation,  and  into  the  Christian  life  ;  and  yet,  they  never 
open  theii-  lips  in  acknowledgment  of  the  benefit  which  they,  have  re- 
ceived. Certainly  they  do  not  with  that  personality,  that  freshness, 
that  minuteness  which  is  necessary  to  make  it  valuable  to  others.  They 
do  not  go  to  one  and  another  person  who  is  bestead  as  they  were,  and 
say,  "  I,  too,  was  as  yon  are.  Let  me  recount  what  Christ  did  for  me." 
Oh  !  there  is  power  in  that. 

When  a  boy,  healthy  and  hearty,  living  in  a  happy  family,  and  the 
son  of  a  man  much  respected,  I  had  about  everything  that  a  boy  want- 


WITNESSING  FOR  CHRIST.  33 

ed ;  but  I  used  to  lie  in  my  little  cot  and  look  across  the  room  at 
Charles  Smith — a  black  man  ;  a  man  as  black  as  black  could  be  ;  a  man 
without  the  suspicion  of  a  di"op  of  white  blood — I  used  to  lie  and  look 
at  him,  and  cry,  and  wish  I  was  Charles  Smith.  I,  that  had  everything 
■ — heritage,  family,  influence,  undeveloped  resources  whose  first  beat- 
ings I  then  began  to  feel — was  deeply  affected  to  see  that  black  black 
man  lying  in  his  bed,  singing  his  hymns,  wiping  his  eyes,  and  eveiy 
once  in  a  while  turning  to  tell  me  what  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  had  done 
for  his  soul.  I  believe  he  was  a  Christian.  I  saw  him  in  the  barn  ;  I 
saw  him  in  the  fields  ;  I  saw  him  when  he  had  hurt  himself;  I  saw  him 
under  all  circumstances  ;  and  he  bore  silent  as  well  as  vocal  testimony  ^^ 
that  he  had  seen  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  been  transformed  by  the  power  • 
of  his  might.  He  used  to  tell  me  (and  I  used  to  get  him  to  tell  it  over 
and  over  again)  the  story  of  his  conversion,  till  he  got  thed  of  telling 
it  to  me.  And  oh  !  how  it  sank  down  mto  my  heart !  That  was  one 
of  the  earliest  of  my  a^vakenings.  My  early  life  was  very  much  like 
a  corduroy  road  in  Indiana.  There  were  beautiful  prahie  flowers  on 
every  side  of  me,  but  the  road  that  I  traveled  was  full  of  chuck-holes, 
over  which  I  went  bump,  bump,  all  the  while.  About  half  the  time  I 
lived  under  conviction,  and  the  other  half  of  the  time  I  was  getting 
over  it.  Every  time  I  heard  anybody  who  had  experienced  a  work  of 
Christ  in  his  Heart  narrate  the  history  of  that  work,  I  had  days  of  anx- 
iety, and  days  of  longing.  Oh !  if  I  had  only  had  somebody  to  tell  me 
that  Jesus  loved  me ;  if  I  had  only  had  somebody  to  take  me  up  in  his 
arms  and  explain  to  me  that  Jesus  loved  me  as  my  mother  did,  and  did 
not  wait,  before  loving  me,  till  I  was  better,  what  a  help  it  would  have 
been  to  me  !  I  suppose  that  I  had  it  said  to  me  many  times  ;  but  it 
did  not  come  with  any  of  those  illustrations  or  picture-forms  which  \ 
were  so  needful  to  my  mind.  And  I  went  on  twenty  years  before  I  \  , 
found  out  the  simplest  truth  in  the  world.  But  I  found  out  one  thing,  \ 
and  that  was,  that  a  real  Christian  man,  telling  what  Christ  had  done  y 
for  his  soul,  ^vas  to  me  like  the  sound  of  the  eternal  world.  There  is  y 
not  a  man  in  this  congregation  so  poor  and  illiterate  that,  if  God  has  * 
had  mercy  on  his  soul,  and  he  is  converted,  he  has  not  the  power  to  go 
to  some  other  poor  illiterate  man  stj'uggling  in  his  sin,  and  say  to  him, 
"  My  dear  fellow,  it  is  not  needful  that  you  should  die  in  your  sins.  I 
have  been  a  captive  like  you,  but  I  broke  my  bonds.  And  let  me  tell 
you  how^  the  Lord  helped  me  to  do  it."  Go  tell  these  things  to  men, 
and  see  if  God  does  not  clothe  you  Avith  strange  power.  It  is  more 
than  the  power  of  eloquence.  There  is  nothing  so  eloquent  as  the 
work  of  God  in  the  soul  of  a  man.  y^    y 

There  is  another  testimony  that  I  think  ought  to  be  borne — namely, 
the  revelation  of  the  progress  or  growth  of  the  idea  and  consciousness 


<^" 


34  WITNESSING  FOR  CHRIST. 

of  sin.  There  are  a  great  many  persons  who  have  dramatic  awakenings. 
These  ai-e  extremely  fascinating  to  young  ears.  And  where  young  men 
and  maidens  hear  a  person  give  an  account  of  the  great  labor,  of  the 
darkness,  and  of  the  conversion  that  supei'vened  on  one  of  these  dra- 
matic awakenings,  they  feel  that  that  has  the  divine  signet ;  and  so  they 
want  to  have  one  of  these  supereminent,  pictorial,  scenic,  almost  tragic 
conversions.  But  they  do  not  have  it.  And  it  would  be  a  comfort  to 
them,  if  they  could  have  a  man  come  to  them  and  say,  "  God  opened 
my  eyes,  to  be  sure,  before  I  came  to  Christ,  and  was  saved  by  him ; 
but  what  I  knew  then  was  nothing  In  comparison  with  what  I  have 
learned  since.  I  never  knew  what  sin  was  until  after  I  undertook  to 
overcome  it,  to  put  the  bridle  and  hai'ness  on  my  sins,  and  make  them 
train  according  to  method  and  rule.  I  knew  that  I  had  pride,  and  I  had 
some  sense  of  the  wickedness  of  pride  before  God ;  but  it  was  not  until 
I  undertook  to  overcome  my  domineering  pride,  it  was  not  until  I 
knew  by  further  acquaintance  what  was  the  sweetness,  and  power,  and 
exaltation  and  nobleness  of  the  divine  life  in  Jesus  Christ,  that  I  had  a 
realizing  sense  of  the  enormity  of  that  pride.  And  now  my  imagina- 
tion seems  poorer  than  ever,  and  my  heart  seems  more  narrow,  and  my 
best  things  seem  feebler,  and  my  worst  things  seem  stronger.  And 
this  consciousness  that  I  am  sinful  grows  on  me  every  year.  I  have  a 
revelation  of  it  every  day.  And  I  tell  you,  my  friend,  I  was  never  con- 
victed of  sin  at  the  beginning  as  I  have  been  since  that  day. 

Now,  this  growing  sense  of  sin  is  more  important  than  to  have  a 
great  thunder-clap.  There  is  nothing  that  it  is  more  desirable  to  have 
go  on  to  the  end  of  your  life,  than  this  sensibility  to  the  work  which 
grows  up  In  every  faculty.     It  is  wholesome. 

There  are  thousands  of  men,  who,  when  they  talk  about  it,  say,  "  I 
sometimes  doubt  whether  I  am  a  Christian.  I  never  had  such  a  work 
of  the  law  as  I  suppose  a  great  many  men  have,  when  I  came  Into  the 
Christian  life — if  I  ever  did  come  into  it  I  came  in  peacefully.  I  came 
in  tranquilily.  I  knew  I  nee'ded  forgiveness,  and  I  hoped  I  had  it ;  but 
I  was  not  wrestled  with.  I  was  not  flung  up  into  the  cope  of  fear.  I 
was  not  plunged  down  into  the  abyss  of  despair.  It  all  seemed  natural. 
I  came  right  along  into  the  Christian  life,  without  any  sudden  change 
in  my  state  of  mind."  Well,  how  has  it  been  with  you  since  ?  Have 
you  never  had  any  sensibility'?  "  Oh,  yes.  Since  I  have  been  trying 
to  be  a  Christian,  I  have  seen  a  great  deal  more  of  my  sinfulness  than 
I  had  ever  seen  before." 

My  fiiend,  you  have  had  a  history  of  what  is  wanted  in  thousands 
of  men  around  about  you  ;  and  what  you  are  called  upon  to  do  Is  to 
go  to  men  who  have  been  brought  to  the  point  where  they  are  balanc- 
ing in  their  minds  whether  to  go  forward,  and  who  are  waiting  for 


WITNESSING  FOR  CUBIST. 


35 


more  feeling  and  deeper  conviction,  and  say  to  them,  "  Get  your  con-      \ 
viction  afterwards.     March Jlrst/     Start!"  '     ^ 

When  a  watch-maker  sets  a  watch,  he  almost  always  stops  it  fii'st,  in 
order  to  get  the  second-hand  right ;  and  then,  at  the  right  second,  he  \ 

gives  it  a  turn,  and  starts  it.    But  suppose,  having  stopped  a  watch,  he  ^^^     -^ 
should  lay  it  down,  and  should  not  start  it  till  he  knew  whether  it  would 
keep  time  or  not,  how  long  would  he  wait  ? 

There  are  a  great  many  men  who  are  set  exactly  right,  and  all  that 
is  wanted  is,  that  they  should  start,  and  go  on  and  keep  time.  But  no, 
they  are  not  going  to  tick  until  they  know  whether  they  are  going  to 
continue  right  or  not.  And  what  is  needed  is,  that  somebody,  out  of 
his  own  experience,  should  say  to  them,  "  You  are  under  an  illusion. 
Your  reasoning  is  false.  You  are  being  held  back  by  a  misconception. 
You  have  enough  sense  of  sin  to  act  as  a  motive.  If  you  have  wind 
enough  to  fill  a  sail,  you  have  enough  to  start  a  voyage  with.  You  do 
not  need  to  wait  for  a  gale  before  you  go  out  of  the  harbor.  If  you 
have  enough  wind  to  get  steerage-way,  start!"  And  if  a  man  has 
enough  feeling  to  give  him  an  impulse  forward,  let  him  move.  After 
that  he  will  have  more  and  more  feeling.  The  Christian  life  is 
one  that  quickens  the  imagination,  gives  clearness  to  the  understand- 
ing, sharpens  the  susceptibilities,  and  brings  a  man  more  and  more  con- 
sciously into  a  knowledge  of  what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong,  and  fills 
the  soul  full  of  this  special  experience. 

It  is  too  often  made  to  be  exclusively  the  business  of  the  pulpit  to 
teach  this  thing ;  but  it  ought  to  be  the  teaching  of  man  to  man. 

There  is  also  a  testimony  of  joy  which  we  owe  to  the  Saviour,  to  X^ 
ourselves,  and  to  our  fellow  men.  The  sweetness,  the  power  and  tha 
frequency  of  that  joy  which  God  sheds  abroad  in  the  converted  soul, 
ought  to  be  made  known.  It  may  not  be  possible  to  express  it  with 
any  considerable  accuracy.  No  words  can  follow  the  feelings.  Feel- 
ings lift  themselves  up  so  high,  and  spread  themselves  so  wide,  and  are 
so  evanescent,  so  changeable,  so  opalescent,  that  no  words  were  ever 
made,  in  any  language,  that  could  fully  give  expression  or  symboliza- 
tion  to  them.  And  yet,  every  man  may  be  able  to  express  his  feelings 
sufficiently  to  excite  hope  and  desire  and  strife  in  others. 

There  is  a  certain  experience  of  joy  narrated  that  I  think  is  mis- 
chievous. I  sometimes  hear  men  speak  in  the  most  undiscriminating 
way  in  meetings  (I  do  not  mean  in  our  own),  where  they  say,  *'  I  used 
to  be  very  unhappy,  but  since  God  shone  on  my  soul,  I  have  not  seen 
a  cloud.  All  day  long,  from  morning  till  night,  and  from  day  to  day, 
I  am  in  an  empyrean  of  joy."  I  do  not  believe  it,  in  the  first  place. 
A  man  might  just  as  well  say  to  me,  "  I  bad  my  violin  tuned  fifty  years 
ago,  and  it  is  in  as  good  order  now  as  it  was  then,  and  there  has  not 


/ 


36  wiTN£:s8mG  foe  cubist. 

been  a  string  touched  since."  I  do  not  believe  it.  I  do  not  believe  a 
cat-gut  was  ever  made  that  did  not  shrink  and  lengthen  by  the  stress  of 
weather.  If  a  man  tells  me  that  he  has  an  uninterrupted  and  uniform 
experience  of  joy,  I  do  not  believe  him.  If  he  says  he  has  come  into  a 
high  state  of  joy,  I  am  not  disposed  to  doubt  that ;  but  however  high 
that  state  of  joy  may  be,  it  must  have  gradations,  sometimes  flaming  up 
into  glorious  light  and  admirable  beauty,  at  other  times  lingering  in 
twilight,  and  at  other  times  going  out  in  darkness,  so  that  for  a  period 
there  is  a  total  abstinence  from  joy.  That  is  the  normal,  and  that  is 
the  necessary  experience  of  joy,  where  it  is  wholesome. 

A  man  may  come,  in  the  later  stages  of  exjjerience,  to  the  land  of 
Beulah,  where  he  can  say  that  he  has  continuing  and  abiding  joy ;  but 
in  the  earher  period,  during  the  whole  period  of  struggle,  when  a  man 
is  casting  out  the  Amalekites,  and  Hivites,  and  Hittites,  and  Jebusites, 
and  Amorites,  and  taking  possession  of  the  land  of  promise,  this  joy 
is  not  continuous.  It  alternates.  Sometimes  it  comes  in  large  sheeted 
glory.  At  other  times  it  comes  trickling  penurious  as  a  rill  from  the 
side  of  a  rock.  But  nevertheless,  there  is,  in  every  true  Christian  ex- 
perience, in  the  experience  of  every  man  who  is  at  all  living  in  vital 
union  with  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  enough  joy  to  enable  him  to  say, 
"  Religion  is  a  joyful  experience.  It  has  its  struggles  and  self-denials ; 
but  after  all,  I  am  happier  with  it  than  I  used  to  be  without  it.  I  am  a 
great  deal  happier  as  a  Christian  than  I  ever  was  before  I  became  a 
Chi-istian."  If  your  life  is  consistent  (and  this  confession  of  Christ 
will  help  to  make  it  so,  by  putting  you  under  new  bonds  for  good  be- 
haviour), there  are  many  persons  to  whom  this  testimony  of  joy  in 
Christ  will  be  very  powerful.  Little  children,  I  think,  are  generally 
happy ;  but  after  persons  have  escaped  from  childhood,  they  are  like 
Adam  and  Eve  when  they  were  driven  out  of  Paradise.  Eden  is  be- 
hind them,  and  tlie  Avilderness  is  before  them. 

I  am  touched  to  think  how  little  joy  there  is  in  the  world.  I  am 
touched  by  the  mute  supplication  of  universal  experience  for  some  joy. 
The  very  wildness  with  Avhich  men  rush  after  pleasure,  the  very  re- 
morselessness  Avith  which  they  seek  first  one  thing,  and  then  anothei', 
is  a  silent  testimony  to  the  desert  condition  of  their  heart.  Men  know 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  joy  ;  they  long  for  it ;  they  seek  it;  they 
strive  after  it ;  but  alas !  the  experience  of  men  is  that  there  is  com- 
paratively little  joy  in  this  world. 

When,  therefore,  one  says,  "Christ  has  blessed  my  soul,  and 
brought  me  into  a  sweet  knowledge  of  himself,  and  at  times  I  have  joy 
unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory,"  the  knowledge  thus  conveyed  that 
there  is  such  a  joyful  state  is  most  powerful  to  bring  men  into  the 
Christian  life,  as  it  has  been  in  the  cases  of  multitudes  in  the  past. 


WITJSfESSIN'G  FOB  CURIST.  37 

And  It  is  the  duty  of  every  man  that  is  a  joyful  Christian  to  bear  wit- 
ness to  the  good  that  he  has  received  at  the  hand  of  God.  It  is  his 
duty  to  go  into  all  his  neighborhood,  and,  with  suitable  words,  and 
with  proper  discretion,  to  bear  testimony  to  the  joy-producing  power 
of  faitli  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

I  was  as  much  struck,  when  I  traveled  in  England,  with  the  stingi- 
ness of  the  people  there  in  respect  to  their  gardens,  as  with  anything 
else.  It  was  afterwards  explained  to  me,  as  owing  partly  to  condi- 
tions of  climate,  and  partly  to  the  notions  of  the  peoj^le.  I  traveled 
two  miles  along  a  park  shut  in  by  a  fence  that  was  probably  twelve 
feet  high,  of  solid  brick,  and  coped  with  stone.  On  the  other  side  were 
all  sorts  of  trees  and  shrubs,  and  though  I  was  sku-ting  along  within  a 
few  feet  of  them,  I  could  not  see  a  single  one  of  them.  There  were 
fine  gardens  in  which  almost  all  the  fruits  in  the  world  were  cultivated, 
either  under  glass,  or  against  walls,  or  out  in  the  open  aii* ;  and  a 
man  might  smell  something  in  the  air;  but  what  it  came  from  he 
had  to  imagine.  There  were  plants  and  shrubs  drooping  to  the 
ground  with  gorgeous  blossoms,  and  there  might  just  as  well  as  not 
have  been  an  open  iron  fence,  so  that  every  poor  beggar  child  might 
look  through  and  see  the  flowers,  and  feel  that  he  had  an  ownership  in 
them,  and  congratulate  himself,  and  say,  "Are  not  these  mine?"  Oh! 
I  like  to  see  the  little  wretches  of  the  street  go  and  stand  before  a  rich 
man's  house,  and  look  over  into  his  grounds,  and  feast  then-  eyes  on 
the  trees,  and  shrubs,  and  plants,  and  piebald  beds,  and  magnificent  blos- 
soms, and  luscious  fruit,  and  comfort  themselves  with  the  thought  that 
they  can  see  everything  that  the  rich  man  owns;  and  I  like  to  hear  them 
tell  what  they  would  do  if  they  were  only  rich.  And  I  always  feel  as 
though,  if  a  man  has  a  fine  garden,  it  is  mean  for  him  to  build  around 
it  a  close  fence,  so  that  nobody  but  himself  and  his  friends  can  enjoy  it. 

But  oh !  it  is  a  great  deal  meaner,  when  the  Lord  has  made  a  gar- 
den of  Eden  in  your  soul,  for  you  to  build  around  it  a  great  dumb  wall 
so  close  and  so  high  that  nobody  can  look  through  it  or  over  it,  and 
nobody  can  hear  the  birds  singing  in  it.  And  yet,  there  are  persons 
who  carry  a  heart  full  of  sweet,  gardenesque  experiences  all  the  way 
through  life,  only  letting  here  and  there  a  very  confidential  friend 
know  anything  about  the  wealth  that  is  in  them. 

How  thankful  I  am  to  men  who  have  sung  their  exj^eriences  in 
hymns !  Those  hymns  are  my  bells.  I  have  strings  and  strings  of 
bells  wherever  I  go,  because  I  have  hymns  singing  to  me  all  manner 
of  things.  I  thank  those  dear  sweet  Christian  natures  whose  letters 
and  journals,  containing  accounts  of  their  higher  Christian  experiences, 
have  been  published.  I  read  them  over  and  over  again.  These  are 
the  places  where  I  gather  food  for  sermons.    If  a  man's  heart  only  rubs 


38  WITNESSING  FOR  CHRIST. 

against  books,  it  gets  msty  and  diy.  You  want  to  rub  your  hearts 
against  living  hearts  and  real  feelings.  And  I  am  under  everlasting 
obligation  to  many  and  many  a  man  who  wept  that  I  might  not  weep ; 
to  many  and  many  a  man  who  moaned,  and  saved  me  from  a  great 
many  moans ;  to  many  and  many  a  man  who  rejoiced,  and  doubled  my 
joy,  and  gave  me  power  to  make  others  happy. 

Christian  brethren,  if  Christ  has  waked  up  in  your  souls  the  pre- 
monitions of  heavenly  joy  ;  if  you  have  sweet  delight  inspmtual  things, 
you  have  a  gospel  to  preach.  It  is  your  gospel.  Christ  is  in  it —  Christ 
formed  i7i  you  the  hope  of  glory.  There  is  your  sermon ;  there  is 
your  lecture ;  there  is  your  conversation. 

But  joy  is  not  the  only  experience,  I  am  sony  to  say.  Who  is 
there  among  us  that  ever  kept  a  sober,  even,  consistent  Chi'istian  life  ? 
Who  is  there  here  that  has  not  fallen  into  sin  ?  Who  is  there  here 
that  has  not  backslidden  ?  Who  is  there  here  that  has  not  grown  faint 
in  his  first  love?  Who  is  there  here  that  has  not  at  times  been  brought 
to  the  blush  to  think  what  things  he  has  thought,  what  things  he  has 
said,  and  what  things  he  has  done  ?  Who  is  there  here  that  has  not 
suffered  shame,  and  whose  shame  has  not  sometimes  well-nigh  come  to 
remorse  itself?  Who  is  there  here  that  does  not  feel,  though  he  is  a 
Christian,  and  though  he  does  not  give  up  his  hope  of  living  as  the 
Lord  would  have  him,  that  he  is  filled  with  imperfections,  and  is  per- 
petually backsliding  ? 

It  is  worth  our  while  to  bear  testimony  to  these  things,  partly  for 
our  own  humiliation,  and  jjartly  to  show  those  who  are  less  mstructed 
than  we  are,  how  Christ  brings  us  out  of  such  states. 

I  think  a  great  many  are  profited  by  hearing  an  upright,  honest, 
straightforward  man  of  business,  whom  they  have  thought  to  be  rather 
a  remarkably  good  man,  whom  they  have  watched  and  tried,  and  whom 
they  believe  to  be  a  Christian  if  anybody  is  one — I  think  a  great  many 
'  are  profited  by  hearing  such  a  man  relate  his  religious  experience. 
Here  is  a  man  that  for  some  years  has  been  trying  to  be  a  Chiistian. 
Though  he  now  and  then  has  gained  slight  victories,  he  has  kept  do- 
ing wicked  things,  and  has  slipped  here  and  there,  so  that  he  has  felt 
that  it  was  useless  for  him  to  attempt  to  go  forward.  But  somehow 
he  has  held  on,  God  being  more  faithful  to  him  than  he  was  to  himself. 
And  he  gets  up  in  meeting  and  says,  "I  have  to  bear  testimony,  to- 
night, brethren,  to  God's  great  love  and  redeeming  mercy  to  my  soul, 
in  calling  me  back  again,  and  bringing  me  safely  out  of  those  di'eadful 
conflicts  Avhich  I  have  had  with  my  pride  and  avarice."  And  he  goes 
on  and  narrates  how  he  had  been  carried  away  by  lust  of  money;  how 
far  it  had  taken  him ;  what  dangerous  groiind  he  stood  on  ;  how  he  be- 
gan to  look  about  for  help  to  recover  himself  j  how  he  prayed;  Low 


WITNESSING  FOR  CHRIST.  39 

God  came  to  his  rescue ;  how  he  was  restored  to  his  right  mind ;  and 
how  at  last  he  got  back  again. 

This  man  says,  in  his  own  mind,  perhaps,  "  I  do  not  know  but  it 
may  do  more  harm  than  good  for  me  to  confess  that  I  am  subject  to 
such  wickednesses  and  such  backslidings."  But  what  is  the  result? 
There  is  a  young  man  sitting  in  the  corner,  who  has  almost  made  up 
his  mind  that  it  is  of  no  use  for  him  to  try  to  be  a  Christian,  he  has 
such  terrible  adversaries  in  himself;  and  when  he  hoars  this  man  say 
that  he,  too,  has  just  such  adversaries,  he  says,  "Did  you  ever  hear  such 
a  story  ?  I  would  not  have  dreamed  that  that  man  had  a  flaw  in  him. 
If  he  has  such  struggles,  there  is  a  chance  for  me.  He  and  I  have  the 
same  difficulties  to  contend  with.  He  has  got  along,  and  why  may 
not  I  ?  I  will  take  courage  from  his  victory,  and  strive  to  gain  one 
myself" 

The  sweet  things  that  John  said  do  not  comfort  me  half  so  much 
as  the  wicked  things  which  he  did.  John,  you  know,  wanted  to  call 
down  fire  from  heaven  and  burn  the  villagers,  because  they  would  not 
follow  Christ,  and  entertain  him,  and  obey  him.  That  has  done  me 
an  immense  deal  of  good.  I  have  great  regard  for  the  apostles,  for 
they  turned  out  well  at  last ;  but  when  I  see  the  hole  of  the  pit,  and 
what  work  they  had  to  get  out,  I  say,  "  There  is  hope  and  a  chance 
for  me." 

Ah !  it  is  the  fellow-feeling  of  sinfulness ;  it  is  the  sense  that  we  are 
weak,  and  that  there  is  a  power  which  takes  Christians  that  are  incon- 
sistent, and  are  tempted  more  than  they  are  able  to  bear,  and  lifts  them 
out  of  their  difficulties,  and  starts  them  again ;  it  is  this  dear  love  and 
■  grace  of  God,  that  comforts  and  encourages  a  man.  If  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian means  to  go  right  straight  forward  without  a  flaw,  then  I  have  no 
hope.  How  is  it  with  you  ?  But  if  a  man  may  be  a  Christian  who  is 
going  zigzag,  stumbling  here,  and  falling  away  there,  and  if  God's 
convoying  grace  will  bring  him  out  safely — that  is,  if  other  men  are 
just  like  me — then  I  will  strive  on. 

Are  there  not  many  burdened  hearts  to  whom  you  could  bear  this 
testimony,  and  to  whom  it  would  be  a  ray  of  light  and  hope "?  A  man 
might  be  as  eloquent  as  an  angel,  and  his  voice  might  ring  out  like  the 
music  of  a  trumpet,  and  he  would  not  do  as  much  good  as  the  simple 
testimony  of  a  suffering  heart  that  the  grace  of  God  was  sufficient  for  it 
in  the  day  of  temptation. 

There  are  a  great  many  experiences  in  life  to  which  we  are  contin- 
ually called,  and  into  which  we  go,  where  we  need  the  testimony  of 
our  Christian  brethren,  as  well  as  their  sympathy,  to  hold  us  up.  We 
are  all  of  us  subject  to  great  providential  trials.  Sometimes  they  are 
trials  of  bereavement.  Sometimes  they  are  trials  of  great  perplexity  and 


40  WITNESSING  FOR  CHRIST. 

anxiety.  And  the  worst  of  it  is  that  prudence  will  not  allow  us  to  make 
,  them  known.  The  distresses,  the  cares,  the  vexations  of  business — these 
are  smooth  words  ;  but  I  tell  yoil  there  is  more  suffering  in  a  business 
life  than  ever  was  seen  in  the  inquisition  of  Spain  or  Rome.  I  never 
saw  such  anguish  as  I  have  seen  in  men  bestead  Avith  trouble  in  busi- 
ness. Every  feeling  in  them  was  alive.  Their  honor  was  imperiled. 
Their  prosperity  Avas  all  at  stake.  Their  love  was  ap^^arently  excori- 
ated for  their  household — then*  children,  then-  wife,  and  then*  compan- 
ions ;  for  those  from  whom  they  had  borrowed ;  for  those  whom  they 
had  led  into  disastrous  enterprises ;  for  those  whom  in  then-  fall  they 
had  crushed,  as  the  great  tree  in  the  forest  crushes  the  smaller  trees 
around  about  it  Avhen  it  falls.  Those  things  which  lacerate  and  tear  a 
man  in  the  most  sensitive  places  we  speak  of  as  business  cares.  But  I 
tell  you,  the  torments  of  the  damned  are  suffered  on  this  side  by  men 
of  business.  I  do  not  myself  wonder  that  sometimes  men  harrassed  by 
business  troubles  lose  their  reason  and  commit  suicide.  I  have  seen 
men  that  Avere  held  back  only  as  by  a  hair  from  self-destruction,  on  ac- 
count of  the  anguish  and  agony  of  feeling  induced  by  mere  business 
matters. 

If,  then,  a  man  who  has  gone  through  a  great  fight  of  afiiiction  can 
stand  up  in  our  meetings,  and  say,  as  I  have  heard  persons  say,  in  re- 
gard to  their  empty  cradle,  "  It  was  A^eiy  hard  to  bear,  but  Christ  Avas 
present  with  me  in  the  midst  of  my  affliction,  and  helped  me,  and  I 
have  lived  through  it,"  that  always  does  me  good. 

I  iave  had  brethren  corhe  to  me  and  say,  "  If  it  had  not  been  for 
your  hopeful  style  of  preaching,  I  never  should  haA^e  gone  through  that 
great  crisis.  I  used  to  think  during  the  Aveek  that  I  should  haA'e  tq 
give  up ;  and  then  on  Sunday  I  would  come  OA'er  and  hear  you  preach, 
and  your  sermon  would  lift  me  up  and  sustain  me,  and  I  would  go 
over  another  week."     And  that  did  me  a  great  deal  of  good. 

But  why  did  you  not  say  that  in  the  meeting  ?  You  kncAV  that 
eA'erybody  Avas  informed  of  your  great  trial ;  and  Avhy  did  you  not  get 
up  and  bear  witness  to  what  Christ  did  for  your  soul  while  you  were 
going  through  that  terrific  scene  of  anguish  and  suffering  ?  "VYhy  did 
you  not  say,  "I  have  suffered,  and  been  upheld  in  suffering?"  Why  did 
you  not  open  your  heart  ?  Were  you  afraid  that  men  Avould  scoff  at 
you  ?  What  is  the  church  for  but  to  afford  a  man  the  benefit  of  the  sym- 
pathy of  his  brethren  ?  And  is  it  not  right  that  you  should  make  known 
your  trials,  not  only  that  your  brethren  may  sympathize  Avith  you,  but 
that  others  may  profit  from  your  experience  ? 

A  great  many  men  suffer  under  cover,  shut  up,  as  it  Avere,  in  a  tight 
place,  on  the  plea  that  it  is  not  prudent  to  make  their  situation  known. 
I  think  the  most  miserable  wretch  on  earth  is  a  man  who  has  to  act  as 


WITNESSING  FOR  CHRIST.  41 

though  he  were  rich,  when  he  is  banki-upt ;  a  man  who  does  not  dare 
to  get  along  with  less  than  three  servant  girls,  and  does  not  dare  to  livq 
in  a  house  less  than  four  stories  high,  and  does  not  dare  to  have  his 
wife  and  daughters  dress  in  anything  less  than  silk,  lest  his  creditors 
should  notice  it,  and  suspect  his  condition,  and  all  come  down  on  him, 
and  crush  him. 

Oh !  I  pity  men  who  are  obliged  to  play  that  game  before  the  world,  ^^ 
and  who  have  everybody  running  to  them  on  the  supposition  that  they 
are  rich,  and  asking  them  to  give  to  this  and  that  charitable  object,  and 
saying,  "  Why  do  you  not  subscribe  ?  You  are  not  as  generous  as  you 
used  to  be."  I  pity  men  who  are  raked  inside  and  out  by  financial 
troubles,  and  cannot  say  a  word,  but  have  to  be  dumb  and  suffer.  By- 
and-by  God  will  give  them  bankruptcy,  and  then  they  will  feel  better. 
There  is  many  and  many  a  man  who,  when  he  struck  bottom,  thanked 
God  for  it, — though  he  cried  all  the  way  down. 

It  is  this  awful  susi^ense,  it  is  this  rasping  uncertainty,  it  is  this  ter- ' 
rific  fear,  it  is  this  busy  imagination  which  pictures  ten  thousand  prob-- 
able  and  improbable  things — it  is  this  that  torments  men.  But  is  there  not 
a  grace  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus  that  can  carry  a  man  through  all  this  ? 
Is  not  the  whole  Hebrew  story  of  Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abednego,  a 
symbol  to  teach  us  that  men  can  go  through  bm-ning  fire  and  come  out 
without  the  smell  of  it  on  their  garments,  if  the  form  of  the  Fourth  is 
seen  walking  with  the  three  ?  And  how  many  men  there  are  who 
have  gone  through  the  fires  of  afiliction  and  trouble,  and  come  out  of 
them  unscorched,  and  saying,  "Jesus  has  been  faithful  to  his  promise. 
I  have  suffered,  but  no  more  than  was  for  my  good.  And  he  has  com^ 
forted  and  sustained  me.  And  I  am  as  hajjpy  now  as  a  sweet  little 
child  in  the  arms  of  its  mother." 

Oh!  bear  witness.  These  are  precious  things  that  you  are  conceaL 
ing.  Wear  those  jewels.  Let  men  see  what  it  is  to  be  comforted  in 
the  midst  of  trials  and  troubles. 

I  know  how  I  feel  myself  I  am  constantly  called  to  funerals. 
Some  that  I  see  who  mourn,  I  am  sorry  for.  Their  rain  is  turned  to 
ice.  Grief  is  beautiful,  as  in  winter  ice-clad  trees  are  beautiful,  when 
the  sun  shines  upon  them ;  but  it  is  dangei'ous.  Ice  breaks  many 
a  branch ;  and  so  I  see  a  great  many  persons  bowed  down  and  crushed 
by  then-  afflictions.  But  now  and  then  I  meet  one  that  sings  in  afflic-  s, 
tion  ;  and  then  I  thank  God,  for  my  own  sake,  as  well  as  for  his.  There 
is  no  such  sweet  singing  as  a  song  in  the  night.  You  recollect  the  | 
story  of  the  Avoman  who,  when  her  last  and  only  child  died,  in  rapture 
looked  up,  as  with  the  face  of  an  angel,  and  said,  "  I  give  you  joy,  my 
darling."  That  single  sentence  has  gone  with  me  years  and  years, 
down  through  my  life,  quickening  and  comforting  rae.     If  it  had  not 


42  WITNESSING  FOR  CEBIST. 

been  spoken,  or  if  it  had  not  been  reported,  it  would  have  been  lost  to 
you  and  me. 

Some  of  the  most  precious  experiences  that  ever  grew  on  the 
bouo-lis  of  the  human  soul  you  have  had,  but  have  never  uttered.  You 
have  never  told  them  even  to  your  companion.  Frequently  husband 
and  ^\'ife  are  ignorant  of  each  other's  richest  experiences.  We  do  not 
talk  enough  one  to  another  about  these  things.  As  we  go  through 
life  God  is  doing  exceeding  abundantly  more  for  us  than  we  ask  or 
think,  in  every  way ;  and  there  is  great  comfort  and  great  evangelizing 
power  in  it ;  but  it  lies  dead. 

There  are  a  great  many  who  could  bear  witness  in  respect  to  what 
God  has  done  for  then-  households.  I  have  seen  households  that  were 
scenes  of  clamor  and  disorder  and  unhappiness,  by  the  grace  of  God 
restored.  Then-  foundations  were  relaid  ;  frugality  took  the  place  of 
spendthriftness ;  and  order,  regularity  and  peace  reigned  where  before 
were  quarrels  and  all  manner  of  outrages.  The  whole  atmosphere  was 
one  of  true  morality  and  pure  religion.  Oh  !  what  a  testimony  such 
persons  could  give  of  the  power  of  God's  grace  in  their  experience ! 

I  have  known  others  who,  according  to  the  manner  of  this  world, 
were  living  ordinarily  well,  some  of  whom,  when  I  have  casually  spoken 
to  them,  have  said  to  me,  "  I  wish  you  would  come  and  see  me,  that  I 
may  tell  you  what  you  have  done  for  me.  It  is  the  truth  in  Christ 
which  you  have  preached,  it  is  the  Gospel  which  you  have  made  known, 
that  has  lifted  my  family  a  thousand  degrees  higher  than  they  were 
before.  We  owe  everything  to  Christ  as  held  forth  by  you."  These 
are  precious  testimonies.  And  if  men  could  only  hear  them,  if  they 
could  be  made  known  with  simplicity  and  naturalness,  with  the  elo- 
quence of  true  feeling,  do  not  you  suppose  that  the  Gospelwould  have 
much  more  power  in  the  community  than  it  now  has? 

Doctrine  is  important ;  but  this  is  not  the  work  of  doctrine.  Ex- 
position is  important ;  but  this  is  not  expository  work.  So  much  of 
the  Gospel  as  has  been  reproduced  in  a  living  foi-m  in  your  experience, 
is  what  the  world  needs  more  than  almost  anything  else. 

Are  there  none  who  have  had  man}'  and  many  years  of  struggle, 
who  have  become  veterans,  and  who  could  bear  a  testimony  as  to  what 
God's  grace  has  enabled  them  to  do  with  fundamental  faults  of  charac- 
ter? There  are  men  who  begin  then-  Christian  life  when  they  are 
young,  and  who,  during  all  the  early  part  of  it  do  not  wish  to  say  any- 
thing about  their  temper,  which  is  fiery  and  ill-controlled,  but  who, 
after  forty  or  fifty  years,  have  got  such  control  of  it  that  they  can  man- 
age it,  and  are  satisfied  that  they  have  achieved  a  victory.  And  there 
is  no  Waterloo  like  that.  Any  man  who  has  humbled  his  pride  by  the 
power  of  God's  truth  and  God's  spirit;  any  man  who  has  put  down  his 


WITNESSING  FOR  CHRIST.  43 

/■ 
temper ;  any  man  who  has  overcome  his  avarice ;  any  man  who  can 
say,  "  I  was  growing  up  penurious,  getting  all  I  could,  and  trying  to 
keep  what  I  got,  but  I  am  becoming  more  generous  by  the  grace  of  ■  \ 
God ;  it  Avas  not  natural  to  me,  I  began  reluctantly,  and  learned  slowly; 
but  I  have  come  to  a  knowledge  of  it  at  last " — any  such  man  has  a  tes- 
timony to  bear  which  the  world  cannot  well  aiford  to  do  without. 

Christian  brethren,  these  victories  over  constitutional  faults  are  the 
true  victories,  after  all.  And  there  is  not  enough  made  of  them.  Xhe 
young  are  not  enough  encouraged  by  them.  Struggling  men  are  not 
taught  by  them  as  they  should  be.  A  large  experimental  knowledge 
of  these  things  is  a  most  precious  depository  of  truth.  These  instances 
are  sufficient  to  suggest,  in  various  dii'ections,  other  parallel  or  anala- 
gous  instances.  And  let  me  say,  in  closing,  that  no  church  can  be 
prospered  in  which  all  the  ministration  comes  from  the  pulpit.  The 
pulpit  was  never  meant  to  be  a  substitute  for  the  living  experience  of 
the  church.  The  power  of  the  pulpit,  generally  speaking,  consists  in 
one  of  two  things — either  in  steering  by  the  actual  life  of  the  church, 
or  else  in  reporting  it  as  the  subject-matter  of  its  own  discourse.  It  is 
the  power  of  God's  grace  in  actual  life  that  is  efficacious  in  this  world. 
And  one  great  trouble  with  doctrinal  preaching  is  not  that  it  is  wrong 
to  preach  doctrine,  but  that  men  preach  only  doctrinally.  They  do  not 
let  their  doctrines  bear  fruit.  They  do  not  carry  them  forward  to  the 
point  of  application  in  actual  experience.  They  do  not  resolve  the 
principle  into  the  concrete  experience.     That  is  the  fault  with  Avhat  is  -. 

called  high  doctrinal  preaching.  jJ-     J 

In  the  next  place,  in  familiar  church  meetings  there  is  not  enough  iT 
declaration  and  conversation  in  respect  to  the  Grace  of  God  in  your  ^  Ay^ 
experience.  You  know  that  j^rayer-meetings  are  proverbially  dry  and  ' 
stiff.  Men  test  then*  consciences  by  their  faithfulness  in  attending 
prayer-meetings,  and  take  great  credit  to  themselves  when  they  can 
say,  "  I  go  to  the  prayer-meeting  every  week" — as  much  as  to  say  that 
a  man  who  can  do  that  can  do  anything,  on  principle.  And  I  some- 
times think  it  is  correct.  Men  go  to  prayer-meeting,  often,  in  a  room 
that  is  big  enough  to  hold  four  times  as  many  as  come  together ;  and 
each,  one  would  suppose,  suspecting  the  others  of  some  infectious  dis- 
ease,  sits  as  far  from  them  as  he  can  ;  and  they  sing  a  hymn  coldly ;  then 
Uhey  read  a  section  of  the  Bible  (if  the  Word  of  God  is  the  bread  of 
life,  they  take  a  very  diy  crast  out  of  it) ;  then  they  have  a  prayer,  per- 
functorily made ;  then  there  is  another  hymn ;  then  there  is  another 
regulation  prayer;  and  then  the  meeting  is  "thrown  open."  For  a  while 
nobody  speaks.  Then  somebody  gets  up  and  says  the  same  thing  that 
he  said  two  weeks  ago — that  they  are  all  sinners  ;  that  they  are  all 
living  below  then*  light  and  priviledge ;  and  that  they  ought  to  feel 


44  WITNESSIJ^G  FOB  CHRIST. 

roused  up  and  quickened  to  a  sense  of  theii-  duty.  He  sits  down,  and 
another  man  balances  it  on  the  other  side.  He  is  an  elder,  or  a  deacon, 
or  some  other  regular  speaker ;  and  what  he  says  is  all  good — they 
know  it  is,  for  they  have  heard  it  a  thousand  times.  And  when  he  sits 
down  the  hour  has  elapsed,  and  eveiybody  thanks  God  that  it  has. 
And  the  meeting  is  dismissed,  and  they  all  go  home.  I  really  believe 
that  prayer-meetings  of  churches  are  often  the  most  waste  periods  of 
the  whole  week.  And  the  most  melancholy  part  of  it  is,  that  those 
men  who  are  so  unspeakably  dry,  have  rich  fountains  of  experience 
in  them.  They  are  really  good  men.  That  old  elder  w^ho  got  up  and 
repeated  for  the  five-hundreth  time,  perhaps,  that  ritualistic  speech,  or 
uttered  that  stereotyped  prayer,  is  as  sweet,  and  as  gentle,  and  as  simple 
as  a  child.  He  is  a  man  of  purity.  And  if,  in  prayer-meetings,  men 
only  knew  enough  to  talk  about  the  things  that  are  in  them,  and  not 
about  things  that  it  is  "j^roper"  to  talk  about;  if  they  would  let  out 
something  of  themselves,  it  would  seem  like  a  Pentecost  there. 

I  have  seen  one  of  those  stiff  meetings  seized  by  an  old  saUor  that 
had  dropped  in,  who  did  not  know  what  was  "proper,"  and  who,  when 
he  had  listened  to  these  dry  speeches  until  he  could  endure  it  no  longer, 
got  up  and  let  himself  out  in  true  Methodist  style.  Tears  ran  down 
his  cheeks,  and  his  voice  was  lifted  up,  and  filled  the  whole  room,  and 
thrUled  the  hearts  of  all  present.  Although  he  used  much  bad  gi-an> 
mar,  there  was  a  great  deal  of  good  sense  in  what  he  said.  And  at 
such  a  time  I  have  seen  people  cry,  and  little  children  wake  up,  and 
look  about  and  wonder  what  was  happening.  They  had  never  heard 
of  such  a  thing  in  a  meeting  before.  And  it  was  owing  to  nothing  in 
the  world  but  the  foct  that  there  was  a  man  there  with  a  fresh  heart, 
who  was  not  ashamed  to  say  just  what  he  felt,  without  thinking  of 
grammar,  or  propriety,  or  what  special  thing  he  should  say,  but  rela~ 
ting  his  own  experience,  and  pouring  out  his  little  gospel  in  an  earnest 
simple  manner.  It  was  the  best  meeting  that  the  people  had  ever  had, 
and  they  were  delighted,  and  they  got  the  man  to  come  to  the  next, 
meeting,  and  tried  to  get  him  to  speak  again  as  he  did  at  the  previous 
one ;  but  they  were  disappointed.  The  moment  you  attempt  to  run 
two  meetings  in  the  same  mould,  the  second  one  will  be  a  failure.  A 
meeting  to  be  successful  must  be  under  God's  hand,  and  must  follow 
its  own  sweet  will,  and  develop  itself  according  to  the  providence  that 
prevails  at  the  time.  If  men  understood  this,  and  would  speak  of 
things  that  they  do  know,  and  would  testify  to  things  that  they  have 
seen  and  felt,  with  simplicity,  not  caring  for  anything  except  to  honor 
God  and  help  their  fellow  men,  Avhat  9  difierent  place  a  prayer-meetmg 
would  be!     Is  there  anything  sweeter  than  Christian  experience? 

Do  not  you  know  that  the  last  thing  which  rises  on  ii-J'k  m  the 


WITNESSING  FOR  CHRIST.  45 

daily  is  cream  ?  It  is  about  so  with  prayer  meetings.  The  fii*st  part 
is  apt  to  be  milk,  and  the  last  part  cream.  By  the  last  part,  I  mean 
the  time  after  the  meeting  is  dismissed,  when  the  peoj^le  get  up  off 
from  the  benches  and  chairs,  and  come  together  in  little  knots,  and  be 
come  so  interested  in  talking  over  their  experiences  that  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  get  them  out  of  the  room.  Then  there  is  just  that  which 
the  whole  meeting  ought  to  have  been  made  up  of. 

This  subject  shows  what  Christian  converse  should  be.  I  know 
there  is  a  great  deal  said  about  talking  with  one  another.  My  own  im- 
pression is  that  a  great  deal  of  what  is  called  Christian  talk  or  conver- 
sation is  quite  profitless.  I  feel  it  to  be  an  impertinence  when  a  man 
whom  I  do  not  specially  know,  and  who  does  not  specially  know  me, 
comes  up  to  me  and  says,  in  a  regular  stereotyped  way,  "Well,  brother,  < 
how  is  it  with  your  soul  to-day  ?  What  are  your  hopes  ?"  Although 
I  am  a  minister,  and  a  very  proper  man,  yet  I  cannot  make  a  peaceable 
answer  to  such  an  interrogation  as  that.  It  would  tempt  any  one  to 
deride  the  man,  though  not  to  deride  religion. 

Neighbors  should  talk  with  neighbors,  and  acquaintances  should 
talk  with  acquaintances.  And  if  you  talk  with  strangers  it  should  be 
with  deference  to  their  feelings.  It  should  be  with  a  consciousness 
that  you  are  invading  their  personality.  You  should  honor  them  while 
you  speak  to  them.  You  are  not  God's  lords  over  other  men.  You 
have  no  right,  because  you  are  a  pardoned  sinner,  to  api^roach  an  un- 
pardoned one  in  an  arrogant  or  over  familiar  way.  Your  business  is 
to  make  men  feel  the  sweetness  which  there  is  in  religion  And  if 
you  talk  of  some  real  experience  of  your  own,  you  will  not  be  likely  to 
go  amiss. 

For  instance,  while  crossing  the  feriy,  a  brother  comes  up  to  you,  \ 
and  says,  "  I  suppose  you  heard  of  the  transaction  I  was  engaged  in 
yesterday  ?"  "  The  transaction  that  you  were  engaged  in  ?  What  was  it  ?" 
"Well,  you  know,  I  was  left  to  myself,  and  I  was  grasping,  and,  I  ad- 
mit, I  made  demands  that  I  ought  not  to  have  made.  I  felt  sorry  about 
it  afterwards.  When  I  got  home  I  told  my  wife  about  it,  and  she  said 
she  thought  I  had  been  grasping,  and  had  not  acted  Christianly.  And 
I  am  going  over  this  morning  to  acknowledge  to  that  brother  that  I 
did^VTong,  and  tell  him  that  he  shall  have  it  just  as  he  wanted  it."  Per- 
haps you  have  been  engaged  in  just  such  a  transaction,  but  you  do  not 
make  any  confession  of  it.  You  say  to  yourself  (this  is  the  way  the 
devil  makes  you  talk),  "I  will  not  let  him  know  it:  if  I  do  he  will 
think  I  am  no  better  than  he  is."  But  suppose  you  should  say,  "  I 
have  gone  through  that  experience,  too  f  And  suppose  you  should  go 
on  and  tell  him  how  you  had  been  avaricious  and  grasping,  and  how 
you  had  been  brought  to  realize  your  fault,  and  how  you  had  overcome 


46  WITNESSING  FOR  CHRIST. 

it,  do  you  not  think  it  would  be  a  comfort  and  consolation  to  him"? 
There  is  great  benefit  to  be  derived  from  this  comparing  notes  one  with 
another. 

When  two  men  that  have  been  siek  for  a  great  while  come  together, 
the  time  is  not  long  enough  for  them  to  tell  of  all  the  diseases  and  sores 
that  they  have  suflfered  from ;  of  all  the  doctors  that  they  have  had ; 
of  all  the  doses  that  they  have  taken ;  of  all  the  disgustful  experiences 
that  they  have  gone  through.  A  little  of  that  would  do ;  but  if  you 
would  talk  of  your  failm-es ;  if  you  would  relate  yom*  real  experience  in 
business  life,  this  would  be  a  Christian  conversation  that  would  cheer 
and  comfort  you. 

My  dear  brethren,  we  do  not  bear  witness  to  Christ's  work  in  us 
half  as  much  as  we  ought  to.  Every  day,  and  everywhere,  he  is  with 
us.  It  is  by  the  grace  of  God  that  we  are  what  we  are — that  you  are 
what  you  are,  and  that  I  am  what  I  am — in  all  that  is  good.  He  is 
not  for  from  any  of  ns.  He  is  near  to  comfort  you,  and  to  inspu'e  you 
with  courage,  and  to  pi'ess  you  forward  in  the  Christian  life.  At  home 
you  are  still  with  the  Lord.  He  follows  you  out  from  home  into  your 
business.  Where  care  and  temptation  are,  there  is  rescue.  Where 
suffering  and  sorrow  are,  there  is  comfort.  Where  darkness  comes, 
there  comes  illumination.  Where  discouragement  comes,  there  come 
instruction  and  hope.  Your  life  is  enveloped  in  a  perpetual  atmos- 
phere of  divine  guardianship.  And  how  much  of  all  this  wondi'ous 
experience  of  the  dealing  of  God  with  your  soul  are  you  using  for  other 
people's  instruction,  to  incite  and  encourage  them  ? 

When  you  go  home  to  glory  in  the  other  land,  and  in  music  chant 
God's  goodness  to  you,  nothing  will  seem  more  wonderful  to  you  than 
your  own  experience,  except  the  mercy  of  God  that  delivered  you  by 
reason  of  it ;  and  shall  you  delay  until  that  glorious  hour,  all  recogni- 
tion of  this  living  work  of  God  in  your  soul  ? 

I  say  to  you,  as  Jesus  said  to  the  man,  Go  to  thy  friends  and 
tell  them  what  the  Lord  hath  done  for  thee,  and  that  he  hath  had 
compassion  on  thee. 


WITNESSma  FOB  CHRIST.  47 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON.* 

Lord  Jesus,  again  lay  thy  hands  upon  the  heads  of  little  children,  and 
bless  them.  Again  rebuke  those  among  us  "who  do  not  believe  tliat  God 
takes  care  of  children,  and  who  leave  them  to  be  swayed  hither  and  thither 
by  the  impulses  of  their  nature,  until  they  have  grown  to  man's  estate,  and 
think  that  then  only  are  they  able  to  ripen  into  piety.  Teach  us  all  to  rear 
our  children  in  the  nurture  and  in  the  admonition  of  the  Lord,  so  that  their 
first  thoughts  shall  be  instructed  toward  God,  and  their  first  feeling  taught 
to  follow  in  the  way  of  Christ  and  Christian  love.  May  we  have  faith  to 
believe  that  thy  grace  can  reach  to  the  very  cradle.  May  we  have  faith  to 
believe  that  thy  holy  spirit  can  change  infant  hearts.  If,  when  rugged 
temptations  and  violent  sins,  and  all  the  passions  of  life,  have  gnarled  and 
distorted  the  disposition,  thou  canst  change  men,  and  make  them  gentle, 
and  pure,  and  true,  how  mucli  easier  canst  thou  charge  the  young  before 
perversion  has  been  followed  by  settled  habits  !  May  we  look  more  and 
more  to  the  sanctuary  of  home,  and  to  the  gospel  of  mothers'  lips,  and  to 
the  early  instruction  of  our  children,  and  to  that  life  which  shall  begin 
with  its  roots  in  sacred  love.  And  grant  that  thy  church  may  be  nourished 
by  men  who  shall  grow  up,  from  the  very  beginning,  in  true  holiness,  that 
in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord  whole  generations  may  be 
brought  up. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  all  those  parents 
who  are  seeking  to  rear  their  children  aright.  Let  not  their  faith  fail.  And 
if  they  seem,  in  later  years,  to  swerve  and  go  aside  from  the  right  way,  may 
they  have  faith  to  bring  them  back  again — a  faith  that  will  not  let  them  > 
go ;  a  faith  that  trusts  in  the  word  of  the  Lord,  that  they  shall  not  depart 
utterly  from  the  way  of  their  instruction. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  the  labors  of  those  who  seek 
to  rear  the  young  to  a  nobler  life ;  to  manliness,  in  honor  and  in  Christian 
piety. 

Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  thy  kingdom  may  be  established  in  the  hearts 
of  all  those  who  are  gathered  into  our  Sabbath-schools  and  Bible-classes; 
and  in  the  hearts  of  all  the  young  that  are  in  our  households  ;  and  in  the 
hearts  of  all  the  young  that  are  not  at  home,  and  that  have  no  friends,  and 
that  are  strangers  among  strangers,  and  are  subject  to  all  the  mischiefs  of 
temptation,  and  all  the  troubles  and  trials  of  sin. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord  !  that  thy  truth  may  be  mighty  upon  the 
hearts  of  all.  May  the  hearts  of  the  parents  be  turned  to  their  children, 
and  the  hearts  of  the  children  to  their  parents.  Grant  that  there  may  be  in 
Christ  Jesus  more  holy  love,  more  pervasive  purity,  more  earnest  faith,  more 
truth-speaking,  and  more  fidelity,  in  all  the  relations  of  life. 

We  pray,  O  Lord !  that  thou  wilt  bless  us  this  morning  as  we  are  gath- 
ered together,  so  many  from  so  many  ways,  with  such  difi'erent  histories, 
and  with  experiences  that  to  each  one  are  more  than  all  the  world.  Who 
can  tell  his  own  life  ?  What  word  can  interpret  the  inward  life  ?  But  we 
are  all  open  before  thee ;  and  that  which  is  even  to  ourselves  intricate  and 
mysterious  in  our  own  nature  and  experience  is  perfectly  plain  to  thee. 

Bless  us  according  to  thy  sight,  and  according  to  thy  mercy,  and  not  ac- 
cording to  the  wisdom  of  our  asking.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  every  one 
in  thy  presence  may  feel  that  God  is  near  to  him  for  good.  Open  to  thy 
people,  by  faith,  the  sense  of  thy  nearness  and  of  thy  blessedness,  in  mercy. 
Grant  that,  they  may  be  able,  this  morning,  to  take  hold  of  tliy  promises 
with  renewed  fkith  ;  that  they  may  look  up  to  thee  with  renewed  contidence, 
and  feel,  indeed,  that  they  are  brought  into  the  very  banqueting  hall  of  the 
king.     May  they  touch,  not  the  hem  of  thy  garment  alone:  may  they,  with 

*  Immediately  foUowiflg  the  baptism  of  cliildren. 


48  WITNESSING  FOR  CHRIST. 

the  disciple  of  old,  be  able  to  lay  their  head  in  thy  bosom.  "We  pray  that 
thou  wilt  also  speak  comfortable  things  to  those  who  have  heard  what  is  the 
greatness  of  thy  power  and  glory,  but  wist  not  what  to  think.  Grant  that 
there  may  be  some  consolation  to  such  to-day.  Grant  that  unconverted  souls 
may  be  touched  with  divine  fervor,  and  brought  into  seriousness  and  ear- 
nest consideration  of  their  way. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  look  upon  all  who  have  wandered. 
Lord,  most  merciful,  and  long-suffering  !  how  long  dost  thou  bear  with 
those  who  sin  against  thee  !  How  wonderful  is  that  mercy  by  which  thou 
dost  call  them  back  again,  and  make  all  promises  to  them  if  they  will  but 
cling  to  thee  !  If  there  be  any  in  thy  presence,  to-day,  who  are  soiled  and 
stained  with  sin,  and  who  have  wandered  far  away  from  God,  oh  !  let  them 
hear  the  voice  of  invitation,  the  pleadings  of  mercy,  and  the  promises  of 
hope  and  of  success.  And  by  the  Holy  Ghost  may  there  be  kindled  in  such, 
hearts  a  light  that  will  burn  brighter  and  brighter  unto  the  perfect  day. 

And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  those  who  labor  for  the  outcast,  and  for 
the  forsaken,  and  for  the  neglected,  and  for  the  ignorant.  Lord,  love  them, 
and  till  their  souls  with  love,  that  they  may  go  to  their  work,  from  day -to- 
day, with  fresh  unction,  with  new  power  from  on  high.  We  thank  thee 
that  within  the  hearts  of  thy  servants  thy  words  have  not  died,  but  that 
thou  art  raising  up  many  in  our  midst  who  are  laboring  for  Christ,  and  pro- 
fessing his  name,  and  preaching  him  to  those  around  about  them ;  and  that 
thy  spirit  follows  their  labor;  and  that  there  are  many  awakened  and  con- 
verted ;  and  that  the  voice  of  those  who  rejoice  is  heard  in  many  a  family. 
Thou  art  reconstructing  desolate  places.  Thou  art  bringing  back  wander- 
ers. Thou  art  restoring  wicked  men  to  righteousness.  Thou  art  fulfilling 
the  prayers  of  parents,  long  dead,  toward  their  recreant  and  sinning  chil- 
dren. Thou  art  glorifying  thyself  in  many  a  place.  And  in  the  day  of  final 
glory  and  final  exhibition,  thou  wilt  show  forth  what  thou  art  doing  for  the 
hearts  of  men. 

We  thank  thee,  O  Lord  our  God  I  for  that  arm  of  power,  unshriveled, 
unwithered,  stretched  out  yet ;  and  for  that  great  fountain-heart  of  mercy 
which  bears  thoughts  more  numerous  tlianthe  drops  of  morning  dew,  upon 
all  that  are  perishing  in  need.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  still  speed  thy 
work.  Still  may  thy  people  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  and  rejoice  in  the  labors  / 
of  the  Lord.  And  may  they  go  forth  sowing  precious  seed.  Though  they 
sow  and  wet  the  seed  with  tears,  may  they  remember  that  they  shall  come 
again  ere  long  with  their  bosoms  filled  with  sheaves. 

And  grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  thy  truth  may  everywhere  prevail  over 
error.  May  men  learn  truth  through  love.  May  they  learn  to  bear  with 
one  another,  and  to  forbear.  May  thy  different  churches  no  longer  vex 
each  other.  May  each,  according  to  its  light,  labor  for  the  welfare  of  men, 
and  for  the  glory  of  God.  And  grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  all  of  them  may 
be  drawn  more  and  more  into  the  blessed  spirit  of  unity,  of  common  faith, 
and  common  hope. 

Let  thy  kingdom  come  in  all  the  world,  and  fill  the  whole  earth  with 
thy  glory. 

We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake.     Amen. 


III. 
Desiring  and  Choosing. 


DESmim  AID  CHOOSING. 


"  Choosing  rather  to  suffer  affliction  with  the  people  of  God,  than  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of 
sin  for  a  season." — Heb.  XI.  25. 


This  is  a  part  of  that  discourse  of  faith  which  was  ilkistrated  by  all 
the  historical  instances  which  were  then  within  the  reach  of  the  apos- 
tle, and  in  which  were  passed  in  review  the  greatest  names  of  Hebrew 
antiquity,  the  element  of  faith  in  each  being  brought  out.  And  in  that 
whole  group  of  noble  souls,  though  living  in  the  dusk  of  the  earliest 
day,  there  was  none  greater  than  Moses,  of  whom  this  was  spoken. 
Great,  he  was,  by  the  native  stature  of  his  mind — one  of  the  few  pre- 
eminently great  minds  ;  one  of  the  four  or  five  men  of  the  world's  his- 
tory, as  a  leader,  as  an  organizer,  as  a  legislator,  as  a  hero. 

His  circumstances,  you  will  recollect,  were  peculiar.  Born  of  a  des- 
pised race,  that  then  were  in  captivity  in  Egypt ;  doomed  to  destruc- 
tion ;  saved  by  the  shrewdness  and  love  of  his  mother ;  adopted,  by  a 
most  romantic  incident,  into  the  fomily  of  the  reigning  house ;  reared 
as  a  prince ;  educated  to  the  last  degree  of  knowledge  that  then  was 
attainable  ;  with  a  mind  peculiarly  fitted  to  take  on  education,  he  stood 
apparently  upon  the  threshold  of  all  the  things  that  men  most  desire 
in  this  world.  There  was  nothing  that  wealth  could  give  that  the  child 
of  Pharaoh's  daughter  could  not  have.  There  was  nothing  in  position, 
and  nothing  in  honor,  and  nothing  in  government,  that  was  not  open 
to  his  hand.  There  was  nothing  in  pleasure  that  Avas  not  accessible  to 
him.  Or,  if  he  chose,  he  could  turn  aside  to  *'  the  mysteries,"  as  sci- 
ence and  knowledge  were  then  called.  Though  knowledge  was  the 
prerogative  of  the  few — namely,  the  highest  class — yet  he  belonged  to 
it,  and  knowledge  was  his. 

Now,  under  such  circumstances,  the  sense  of  righteousness,  the  sense 
of  justice  and  equity,  and  the  prospect  of  the  future,  were  more  to  him 
than  all  the  treasures  of  Egypt.  And  although  he  would  have,  if  he 
Tchose  his  own  people,  to  ally  himself  with  all  that  was  despicable  in 
slaves  ;  although  he  would  have  to  bear,  at  their  hands,  the  utmost  in- 
dignities ;  although  he  was  to  be  a  vagabond,  driven  out ;  although 
when  the  pressure  of  the  government  came  upon  him  it  would  be 
enough  to  destroy  a  score  of  men ;  and  although  he  was  to  wear  out 

SuKDAY  EvKMNG,  March  20, 1870.  Lesson:  PsA.  SLVin.  Hymns  (Plymouth  Collection): 
Kos.  907,  118o,  1163, 


50  DEsiRma  and  ceoosing. 

eighty  most  laborious  years  (and  being  a  prophet  all  this  rose  up  before 

liim) yet  he  chose  it.     That  is  to  say,  he  desired  it,  he  sought  it,  and 

he  had  it.  And  so  illustrious  an  instance  of  choosing  you  scarcely 
can  select  anywhere  else,  now  that  we  see  the  whole  of  it  in  perspec- 
tive. 

"Choosing  rather  to  suffer  affliction  with  the  people  of  God,  than  to 
enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season ;  esteeming  the  reproach  of 
Christ  [showing  that  Chi'ist  was  the  Jehovah  of  the  Old  Testament, 
and  that  he  was  worshipped  in  the  Old  Testament  dispensation  just  as 
we  worship  him  now,  though  under  the  national  designation  of  God^ 
gi-eater  riches  than  the  treasm-es  of  Egypt;  for  he  hath  respect  unto 
the  recompense  of  the  reward." 

Afar  off  he  beheld  the  ends  and  final  issues,  and  chose  them ;  and 
all  the  circumstances  intermediate  he  accepted  as  the  condition  on 
which  he  was  to  receive  the  fi-uition  of  the  final  reward. 

I  propose  to  discourse,  to-night,  on  the  Difference  hetioeen  Desiring 
and  Choosing ;  because  there  are  a  great  many  who  are  snared  at  that 
point,  and  because  if  we  can  separate  the  real  nature  of  choice  from 
all  its  incidents  and  accidents,  there  are  some  applications  that  can  be 
made  which  will  be  of  very  great  value  to  those  who  are  honest,  and 
who  mean  to  follow  then-  best  light. 

Of  all  the  things  that  have  been  made  in  this  w^orld,  there  is  noth- 
ing so  susceptible  as  man.  We  are  more  accustomed  to  speak  of 
man  as  a  creature  of  power,  producing  effects,  than  in  any  other  way  ; 
but  if  one  will  narrowly  study  himself  and  his  fellows,  I  think  he  will 
be  still  more  surprised  at  their  susceptibility  to  receive  impressions. 

When  we  hold  a  mirror  up  before  any  object,  it  takes  instantly  both 
the  form  and  the  hue  of  that  object ;  but  it  is  without  any  power  to 
change.  It  is  the  same  mirror,  and  is  unsusceptible  to  anything  but 
the  reflection  of  the  objects  that  are  presented  to  it. 

There  are  some  thuty  or  forty  separate  mirrors  in  the  human  mind 
— for  every  fiiculty  is,  as  it  were,  a  mirror  held  up  to  some  side  of  na- 
tm-e,  no  one  of  them  taking  in  everything,  but  each  one  of  them  being 
adapted  to  some  corresponding  element  in  the  great  round  of  creation. 
There  is  all  that  cluster  of  faculties  which  we  call  the  reason,  or  the 
understanding,  made  up  of  severalties,  each  particular  element  of 
which  represents,  or  stands  over  against,  a  line  of  truth,  and  is  suscep- 
tible to  it.  And  all  the  reason  is  susceptible  to  all  the  kinds  of  truth 
which  exist  in  the  earth,  whether  physical,  or  social,  or  moral. 

Then  there  are  the  moral  sentiments,  of  iheir  several  kinds,  each 
one  of  which,  as  a  separate  interpreting  mirror,  throwing  away  eveiy 
thing  else,  selects  to  itself  some  particular  sphere  of  truth — the  con- 


DEsmma  and  choosing.  51 

sciene,  moral  truth ;  hope,  its  particular  kinds  of  tmth ;  love,  its  sorts 
of  truth  ;  beneficence,  its  varieties  of  truth. 

So,  through  the  whole  Hne,  each  one  of  the  different  faculties — 
the  susceptibilities,  as  they  are  sometimes  called — stands,  as  it  were, 
over  against  a  province  of  influences  or  truths.  And  it  is  not  for  man 
to  determine  whether  he  will  be  influenced  by  them  or  not.  He  can- 
not help  himself  It  is  not  for  me,  opening  my  eye  upon  color,  to  say, 
"I  will  not  perceive  color."  I  cannot  help  perceiving  color.  It  is  not 
for  me,  in  the  presence  of  sweet  music,  to  say,  "  I  will  not  be  afiected 
by  sweet  music."  It  takes  care  of  itself  It  affects  me  without  my 
will.  You  are  so  susceptible,  and  I  am  so  susceptible,  that,  certain  in- 
fluences being  set  in  motion  upon  us,  there  is  a  side  of  us  on  which 
they  strike.  And  this  susceptibility,  when  it  is  carried  up  a  certain 
way,  is  called  desire.  It  culminates  in  a  state  in  which  you  begin  to 
want  that  which  comes  pleasantly  or  favorably  upon  the  mind. 

Here  is  an  agent  created  with  wondrous  subtlety,  and  put  together  hi 
a  manner  extraordinary,  as  to  itself — the  body,  the  mechanism  of  the 
physical  organization,  in  all  the  animated  creation.  For,  although  single 
animals  have  specialties  which  surpass  man,  there  is  not  in  the  animal 
kingdom  any  organization  which,  in  its  sum  total,  is  to  be  compared 
with  man.  We  cannot  fly  as  the  eagle  can ;  but  the  eagle  cannot  man- 
ipulate as  7;^e  can.  We  cannot  strike  as  the  lion  can ;  but  the  lion  can- 
not carve  and  di'aw  as  we  can.  We  are  feebler  in  some  things  in 
order  to  be  stronger  in  others ;  but  the  average  is  transcendently  gi'eater 
in  man  than  in  the  animal  creation.  The  physical  organization  is  as 
inferior  to  the  mind,  as  a  casket  is  to  the  jewels  which  it  carries.  It  is 
the  mind,  after  all,  that,  being  studied,  is  the  most  subtle,  the  richest 
and  the  most  extraordinary,  of  all  the  things  which  a  man  can  contem- 
plate in  this  world. 

It  is  no  small  thing  to  carry  this  mind  in  the  midst  of  God's  out- 
ward creation — in  the  glory  of  the  heavens,  and  the  glory  of  the 
earth ;  in  fullness  of  the  summers  ;  in  the  endless  variety  of  things  that 
addi-ess  themselves  to  each  of  the  senses,  and,  through  observation 
or  reflection,  to  the  taste  and  desire.  It  is  a  marvellous  pilgi-image 
that  a  man  makes,  with  such  a  susceptible  mind  as  his,  through  the 
natural  kingdom.  But'  in  society,  all  the  combinations  which  men 
make  among  themselves,  into  neighborhoods,  or  into  parties,  or  into 
schools,  or  into  philosophies,  or  into  social  chcles,  or  into  bodies  formed 
for  the  carrying  out  of  ambitious  designs — these  things  acting  upon  a 
sentient  human  mind,  tend  to  create  in  it  susceptibility  and  deshe  past 
all  enumeration.  It  is  no  small  thing  to  carry  our  minds,  so  sensitive, 
in  the  midst  of  all  things  that  are  deshable  in  life — its  pi'aises,  its  joys, , 
its  loves,  its  tastes,  in  endless  profusion. 


55  DESmiNG  AND  CHOOSING. 

In  the  midst  of  all  the  things  which  address  themselves  to  the  eye, 
and  to  the  ear,  and  to  the  tongne,  and  to  the  hand,  and  to  the  body ; 
in  the  midst  of  all  the  priceless  possessions  for  which  men  have  striven 
since  the  earth  began — one  of  the  first  truths  that  man  finds  out,  is  that 
he  is  not  large  enough  to  do  everything ;  that  every  one  has  to  live  on 
a  principle  of  selection.  But  a  principle  of  selection  is  a  principle  of 
rejection.  No  man  can  ever  appropriate  all  the  bounties  of  creation 
which  come  providentially  within  his  reach.  There  is  not  vitality 
enough  in  a  man  to  supply  all  the  faculties,  all  the  time,  with  the  sen- 
sibility which  enjoyment  implies.     I  have  put  that  to  proof. 

In  traveling  abroad,  in  going  through  Switzerland,  in  visiting  gal- 
leries, in  seeking  out  those  rarities  of  which  I  had  read,  and  about 
which  I  knew  much,  but  which  I  had  never  beheld,  with  good  health 
and  pleasing  society,  I  went  from  day-to-day  to  the  maximum  of  pos- 
sibility. I  enjoyed  until  there  was  no  more  power  in  me  to  enjoy,  and 
stopped  long  before  the  sun  went  down,  simply  because  I  was  used  up. 
I  could  carry  a  pretty  good  load,  for  a  while  ;  but  I  frequently  had  a 
realizing  sense  that  there  was  a  definite  limit  to  the  capacity  of  a  man 
to  carry  things,  even  when  they  were  accessible  to  him.  You  may  look 
until  your  eye  ceases  to  see  what  you  look  upon.  You  may  listen  until 
your  ear  fails  to  hear  the  sounds  which  fall  upon  it.  You  may  enjoy 
until  the  fibre  says,  "I  cannot  vibrate  any  more."  And  a  man  thanks 
sleep  at  last,  as  the  unnamed  and  unknown  luxury  of  luxuries. 

So  it  comes  to  pass  that  with  this  susceptibility  running  through 
many  faculties,  the  mind  is  not  large  enough  nor  strong  enough 
even  to  take  in  everything  that  is  accessible  to  it.  There  are  many 
joys  which  belong  to  later  stages  than  the  present  one  in  which  you 
stand.  They  come  in  regular  succession ;  they  are  articulated  in  the 
way  of  cause  and  efiect ;  and  if  you  are  to  have  them,  you  are  to  have 
them  just  as  you  have  clusters  of  grapes.  Fkst  the  seed  is  obtained  and 
planted  in  the  ground.  Then  it  goes  through  the  various  periods  of 
maturation.  And  you  cannot  anticipate  or  antecede  this  regular  se- 
quence of  development.  So  it  is  in  human  life.  There  are  many 
things  which  men,  when  they  hear  about  them,  desire.  They  want 
them,  but  have  not  got  them. 

In  the  first  place,  there  are  many  things  that  are  at  opposite  poles, 
so  that  if  you  have  some  things,  you  must  give  other  things  up.  If  a 
man  wants  to  sleep,  and  wants  to  be  wide  awake  at  the  same  time,  he 
must  choose.  He  cannot  do  both — (out  of  Church  !)  It  is  impossible 
for  a  man  to  be  asleep,  and  also  to  be  attentive  to  what  is  going  on  out 
of  sleep. 

All  through  life  it  is  so.  Everywhere  men  choose,  and  in  choosing 
always  refuse  or  deny  themselves  what  they  desire.     They  desii-e  one 


DESIRING  AND  CHOOSING.  53 

thino-  more  than  another,  and  are  obliged  to  make  a  selection.  Selec- 
tion on  one  side,  as  I  have  said,  always  implies  rejection  on  the  other 
side. 

A  man  may  desire  all  his  grounds  to  be  in  forest,  and  at  the  same 
time  he  may  desire  all  his  grounds  to  be  arable,  so  that  he  can  plow 
and  plant.  He  can  have  them  either  way ;  or,  he  can  put  a  part  under 
the  plow,  and  a  pai't  in  forest :  but  he  cannot  have  them  all  in  forest 
and  all  under  the  plow,  at  the  same  time.  Though  each  way  may  have 
its  advantages,  and  may  'be  right,  he  cannot  have  them  both.  You  can 
take  one  or  the  other,  or  a  part  of  one,  and  a  part  of  the  other.  And 
there  is  where  choosing  comes  in.  The  desire  is,  "  I  would  like  them 
all  forest,  and  I  would  like  them  all  field,"  but  you  cannot  have  them 
all  one  and  the  other  at  the  same  time.  You  must  choose  ;  and  so  you 
must  find  out  which  you  desire  most,  or  which,  desiring  most,  you  will 
choose,  and  take  steps  to  secure. 

A  man  may  desire  to  go  to  sea,  and  if  he  has  ever  been  there,  I 
think  he  will  desire  still  more  to  stay  on  shore  ;  but  he  cannot  do  both. 
If  you  select  one  element  you  reject  another,  all  the  way  through  life. 

I  make  these  familiar  illustrations  to  show  that  in  the  selection 
which  desire  begins  to  breed  in  us,  we  are  obliged  to  take  things  here 
or  reject  thingsthere,  because  they  stand  opposed  to  each  other;  because 
they  stand  in  conflict;  because  they  stand  in  succession.  So  that  if  you 
begin  at  any  one  point,  and  say,  "  I  desire  that  thing,"  that  thing  is 
only  to  be  reached  by  given  steps.  It  is  not  on  your  level.  If  you 
would  have  it  you  must  ascend.  If  you  desire  it  enough  to  take  the 
steps  to  get  to  it,  then  you  chose  it ;  but  if  you  do  not  desne  it  enough 
to  take  the  steps  to  get  to  it,  you  do  not  choose  it. 

From  this  brief  and  familiar  exposition  of  desirin//  you  will  per- 
haps make  the  transition  yourself  into  choosing,  out  of  desire. 

I  take  a  little  child  by  the  hand,  and  walk  down  the  street  to  a  shop 
window,  and  that  child  Avants  the  first  gay  thing  it  sees,  and  then  it 
wants  the  next  one,  and  the  next,  and  the  next.  It  wants  them  all, 
and  would  try  to  take  them  all,  if  it  could.  I  take  the  child  into  the 
shop,  and  it  wants  a  wheelbarrow,  it  Avants  a  doll,  it  wants  dresses 
for  the  doll,  it  wants  this,  that,  and  the  other  thing,  until  its  little  arms 
are  quite  outspanned  by  the  multitude  of  things  that  it  has,  and  it 
cries  because  it  cannot  take  home  everything  in  the  shop.  As  the  child 
gets  a  little  older,  he  says,  "  I  want  this,  and  I  want  this,  and  I  want 
this ;"  but  the  parent  says,  "  Take  your  choice,  my  dear.  Which  will 
you  have  ?"  The  child  looks  wistfully  at  all  the  things,  and  wishes  it 
could  have  them  all ;  but  as  it  cannot  have  them  all,  it  finally  chooses 
this  ;  and  the  selection  being  made,  he  gets,  and  does  not  get,  as  the 
case  may  be. 


54  DESIRING  AND  CHOOSING. 

When  people  are  still  older,  the  same  thing  is  true.  A  woman  goes 
out  shopping,  and  wants  to  procure  material  for  a  di-ess.  And  oh  !  to 
go  to  that  place  of  bewilderment,  Stewart's !  You  wish  to  select  a 
comfortable  di-ess,  a  di-ess  within  your  means,  a  dress  answering  to  your 
cu-cumstances.  But  oh,  that  the  loom  should  have  made  such  a  pro- 
vocation to  the  eyes !  There  it  hangs,  oh,  so  gorgeous !  oh,  so  exquis- 
ite !  "That  is  what  I  want,"  you  say  ;  "but  this  is  what  I  am  going 
to  buy  ;"  and  there  is  a  vast  problem  in  that  simple  expression.  You 
want  that;  and  why  do  you  not  buy  if?  " In  the  first  place,  it  is  be- 
yond my  means.  I  have  not  the  money  to  pay  ten  dollars  a  yard  for 
that,  or  I  would  do  it  in  a  minute."  Have  not  got  it?  Why,  do  you  not 
own  twenty  times  ten  dollars  ?  "  Oh,  yes,  I  own  that  amount ;  but 
then,  I  have  got  to  pay  it  for  other  things."  In  other  words,  you  pre- 
fer to  spend  your  money  for  other  things.  You  desire  that  dress  ;  but 
all  things  considered,  it  is  better  that  you  should  not  pay  ten  dollars  a 
yard  for  twenty  yards  of  dress  goods.  You  prefer  to  pay  your  rent,  or 
to  distribute  the  money  among  your  children,  for  their  education.  You 
think  that  on  the  whole  you  will  get  more  comfort  out  of  that  money 
if  yoii  dispose  of  it  in  that  way.  In  other  words,  though  you  want  the 
costly  dress,  you  do  not  feel  justified  in  getting  it. 

The  love  of  di-ess  is  pitiful ;  but  the  hunger  of  the  eye  is  not  to  be 
despised.  There  are  other  kinds  of  hunger  besides  stomachic  hunger. 
Great  numbers  of  people  have  a  love  of  beauty  ;  and  many  poor 
wi-etches  are  starving  because  they  have  it  not,  and  do  not  know  where 
to  look  for  it.     I  pity  people  who  have  starvation  of  the  eye. 

I  remember  very  well  the  bleak  and  barren  rooms  that  I  used  to 
live  in.  I  did  not  know  what  ailed  me.  I  could  not  then  tell  what  I 
wanted  :  I  know  now.  It  was  some  sesthetic  beauty  that  I  had  not,  and 
could  not  find  anywhere. 

And  there  are  many  people  who  are  damned  because  they  have 
this  appetite  for  beauty,  and  do  not  know  how  to  gratify  it  properly, 
and,  for  the  sake  of  having  dress,  of  having  ornaments,  of  having 
something  pretty  to  them  and  attractive  to  others,  sell  body  and  soul, 
and  perish,  soul  and  body  ! 

It  is  a  piteous  thing  for  persons  to  have  such  an  appetite  and  have 
it  starved,  until  they  have  lost  conscience,  or  ignorantly  destroyed 
themselves,  for  the  sake  of  it. 

Well,  now,  while  you  were  looking  at  this  exquisite  silk,  and  admh- 
ing  it,  did  you  choose  it  ?  No,  but  you  desired  it.  You  said,  "  I  want 
it,  but  I  can  not  conveniently  pay  for  it,  considering  the  other  things 
that  I  ought  to  buy.  When  I  think  of  the  necessities  of  my  husband 
and  my  children  ;  when  I  think  of  what  I  must  have  to  keep  soul  and 
body  together ;  when  I  think  of  the  house-rent,  and  the  school  bills, 


DESIRING  AKD  CHOOSING.  55 

and  grocer's  bills  that  are  to  be  paid,  I  do  not  feel  that  I  can  afford  to 
purchase  so  expensive  a  dress  as  that ;  and  I  choose  not  to  have  it, 
though  I  desire  to  have  it." 

There  is  no  mystery  in  that.  It  is  a  problem  that  is  coming  up 
over  and  over  again  eveiy  day  in  persons'  lives  in  this  world. 

What,  then,  is  it,  that  a  person  does  when  he  chooses  ?  Why  is  it 
that  he  sifts  the  myriad  influences  that  are  exerted  upon  him,  appropri-  - 
ating  some  and  rejecting  others  ?  There  are  a  thousand  things  that 
come  in  to-day,  and  there  are  a  thousand  things  that  come  in  to-mor- 
row, to  affect  us.  Each  hour  shifts  the  glass.  The  world,  like  a  glass, 
is  perpetually  turning.  We  are  all  the  time  seeing  different  com- 
binations. And  we  learn  instinctively  to  choose  from  among  the  tilings 
that  rise  up  before  us.  We  have  taken  the  line  of  our  life,  and  we  say, 
"AH  that  I  have  must  lie  parallel  with  that  line.  I  can  not  take  this 
or  that  at  pleasm-e."  And  our  life  is  a  system  of  selecting  and  reject- 
ing. In  looking  around  we  put  our  eye  on  this,  or  on  that,  and  choose 
it ;  and  then  we  follow  up  that  which  we  have  chosen,  A  desire  which 
is  so  much  a  desire  that  the  reason,  when  it  is  true  to  its  function,  ap- 
proves it  as  rational,  and  that  the  will  applies  the  means  to  the  end, 
and  that  you  prefer  it,  together  with  all  the  cu-cumstances  which  are 
requu-ed  for  getting  it — that  is  a  choice. 

Choosing  takes,  not  the  thing  alone,  but  the  whole  apparatus  by 
which  it  is  to  be  obtained.  Choosing  is  not  only  desire,  but  the  ma- 
chinery by  which  desire  becomes  reality.  Choosing  always  carries 
with  it  something  more  potential  than  mere  susceptibility.  So  that 
when  a  man  says,  "  I  choose  such  a  thing,"  it  is  as  if  he  said,  "  I  think 
that  thing  to  be  not  only  desirable,  but  more  desirable  than  other 
things  that  are  inconsistent  with  it ;  and  so  much  more  desu'able,  that 
for  its  sake  I  will  give  them  up,  and  will  apply  all  the  forces  that  are 
necessary  to  getting  it."     Such  is  choosing. 

Now,  take  the  case  of  Moses.  There  was  the  Court  of  Pharaoh. 
There  was  everything  that  could  dazzle  the  senses  ;  everything  that 
could  gratify  seK-love  and  self-indulgence.  And  doubtless  these  things 
had  their  weight  with  him.  And  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  in  his 
nature  a  deep  moral  want ;  a  sense  of  humanity,  a  sense  of  justice,  a 
sense  of  truth,  a  sense  of  God — for  "  he  endured  as  seeing  him  who  is 
invisible."  There  were  those  two  lines  of  life — the  one,  that  was  calcu- 
lated to  attract  and  gratify  the  senses  ;  and  the  other,  that  was  calcu- 
lated to  attract  and  gratify  the  moral  nature.  They  hung  balanced, 
doubtless,  in  his  mind.  It  was  with  him,  probably,  as  it  is  with  every 
other  man  who  comes  to  a  great  choice.  He  perpended,  he  oscillated, 
he  finally  made  his  choice,  and  he  stuck  to  it  heroically,  as  long  as  he 


56  DESinma  and  cnoosiNa. 

lived ;  and  he  will  be  forever  more  transeendently  blessed  in  the  king- 
dom of  God's  glory  above. 

We  are  called  to  make  choices  perpetually ;  and  we  must  not  con- 
found tliem  with  desires. 

With  this  general  explanation,  we  may  now  j^roceed,  with  some 
profit,  to  various  points  of  application. 

1.  There  are  a  great  many  young  men  and  young  women  who  de- 
sire very  much  to  be  cultivated  and  educated.  They  have  some  genuine 
tastes.  They  take  pleasure  in  the  finer  a3Sthetic  elements.  They  desire 
to  have  an  education.  And  if  you  were  to  ask  them,  "Do  you  choose 
to  be  educated?"  they  would  say,  "  Certainly,  I  do  choose  to  be  educa- 
ted." But  no,  they  do  not.  They  desire  to  be  educated ;  but  it  is  one 
of  those  desires  which  everybody  is  subject  to.  Myriads  and  myriads 
of  desires  we  have  which  never  ripen. 

Have  you  ever  noticed  what  a  i^rofusion  of  apple  blossoms  there 
are  every  spring,  and  how  few  apples  there  are  that  come  from  them  ? 
There  are  a  million  blossoms  to  a  bushel  of  apples.  Just  so  it  is  with 
desires  and  choices.  Men  have  a  million  of  desires  to  a  bushel  of 
choices.  Among  all  the  multitude  of  desires  that  men  have,  there  is 
only  here  and  there  one  that  amounts  to  a  clioice. 

So  that  when  you  say,  "  I  choose  to  be  educated,"  you  are  mistaken. 
You  do  not  choose  it ;  you  desire  it — that  is  all.  You  have  sometimes 
thought  to  yourself,  "How  nice  it  would  be  if  I  could  speak  the  modern 
languages !"  but  }-ou  did  not  choose  to  take  the  pains  to  learn  the 
French  and  German  and  Spanish.  You  tried  once  or  twice,  and  got 
stuck  in  the  grammar  the  first  thing,  and  gave  up.  You  desired  to  be 
educated,  and  you  put  yourself  in  the  hands  of  a  teacher,  to  be  taught 
the  various  branches  of  instruction ;  you  placed  yourself  in  circum- 
stances favorable  to  learning  ;  but  you  found  that  it  required  self-denial 
to  be  educated  perfectly ;  and  the  moment  you  were  brought  to  the 
test  of  giving  up  bodily  ease,  and  self-indulgence,  and  the  gay  throng, 
to  the  drudgery  of  learning  a  little  to-day,  and  a  little  to-morrow,  and 
a  little  the  next  day,  for  weeks,  and  months,  and  years,  for  the  sake  of 
gaining  an  education,  you  did  not  choose  it.  When  you  saw  what  such 
a  choice  involved,  you  did  not  venture  upon  it.  You  preferred  to  put  it 
ofi"  till  to-morrow,  or  next  week,  or  next  month,  or  next  year,  and  take 
the  consequences.  Your  choice  was,  "  Give  me  present  pleasure ;  give 
me  good  prospects  in  this  world ;  give  me  something  to  eat,  and  some- 
thing to  drink,  and  something  to  wear  ;  give  me  a  place  where  I  shall 
be  praised,  and  where  I  shall  be  honored,  and  I  will  let  intelligence  go,  ^ 
and  I  will  pick  up  what  little  information  I  need  to  get  through  lif^ 
with."  And  so  it  turns  out  to  be  nothing  more  than  a  fair  dreaml 
which  so  many  young  persons  have  in  early  life,  when  they  say,  "  IJ 


DESIBWG  AND  CHOOSING.  57 

will  be  a  knowing  man."  They  desii-e  knowledge ;  but  they  choose 
ignorance,  or  only  partial  knowledge. 

2.  There  is  many  a  man  who  desires  to  be  rich ;  but  there  are  a 
great  many  men  who  do  not  desire  to  be  rich.  I  am  one  of  them.  I 
know  all  about  it.  But  it  would  not  be  safe  to  offer  wealth  to  me. 
As  long  as  I  know  that  I  am  not  going  to  have  it,  I  not  only  do  not 
desu*e  it,  but  I  do  not  t^ven  think  about  it.  I  certainly  am  not  going 
to  give  my  life  to  obtaining  riches.  A  great  many  j)eople  are  poor ; 
they  are  foreordained  to  poverty;  and  they  make  their  calling  and 
election  sure  in  poverty.  They  say  they  do  not  want  riches.  They 
despise  riches.  There  is  nothing  like  a  wholesome  despising  of  riches 
among  men  that  cannot  get  them ! 

But  there  are  men  who  do  desire  to  be  rich,  and  make  up  their  minds 
that  they  are  going  to  be  rich — that  is,  they  say  they  arc,  until  they 
begin  to  find  out  what  it  costs.  They  come  down  to  New  York  to  get 
rich.  It  was  riches  that  they  talked  about  at  home.  That  is  what  they 
coaxed  and  persuaded  then*  father  and  mother  to  let  them  come  to  New 
York  for.  They  did  not  want  to  labor  on  the  farm  all  their  life.  They 
wanted  to  cut  a  swath  in  the  world ;  and  the  way  to  do  it  was  with 
riches. 

"But  oh!  my  son,  it  is  such  a  place  of  temptation !"  "Do  you 
think,  mother,  that  I  am  such  a  fool  that  I  do  not  know  enough  to 
resist  and  overcome  temptation  f  And  so  he  comes  down  to  the  city. 
He  comes  to  seek  his  fortune,  as  the  saying  is.  And  the  first  step  is 
to  get  a  place.  He  gets  a  place.  And  when  he  gets  a  place,  he  gets 
companions.  And  they  are  gay  fellows.  They  laugh  at  him  and  taunt 
him  because  he  is  so  trim  and  prim  and  projDer.  His  plain  country 
clothes  are  as  good  as  he  can  afford,  and  he  has  supposed  that  they 
were  good  enough ;  but  he  is  laughed  into  getting  finer  ones.  He 
must  shed  his  country  skin.  He  must  do  as  Romans  do,  among 
Komans.  And  he  is  drawn  into  this,  that,  and  the  other  extravagance. 
And  then,  he  is  not  going  to  shut  himself  up  like  a  worm  in  its  little 
cocoon.  He  must  go  out  and  see  folks.  And  there  are  some  folks  that 
ought  never  to  be  seen; or  that,  being  seen,  ought  never  to  be  seen 
twice.  And  though  he  came  down  to  get  rich,  he  cannot  resist  the 
temptation  to  indulge  in  pleasures;  and  he  wants  to  be  kind  and 
sympathetic ;  and  he  is  not  going  to  be  a  niggard ;  and  so  he  must 
spend  a  good  deal  of  money ;  and  if  it  is  not  in  his  own  jiocket,  he 
finds  it  convenient  to  take  it  out  of  his  master's  till.  He  is  called  up. 
"John,  you  have  been  very  inconstant  of  late.  Unless  your  habits, 
conform  to  the  rules  of  the  establishment,  you  will  lose  your  jilace." 
And  it  is  not  a  year  before  he  has  lost  his  place.  What  is  the  matter?' 
He  has  been  caught  drinking,  carousing,  and  gambling. 


58  BESmiNG  AND  CHOOSING. 

This  is  the  young  man  that  came  down  to  the  city  to  be  rich ;  but 
the  moment  he  found  that  gaining  wealth  required  self-denial,  pains- 
taking industry  and  integrity ;  the  moment  he  found  that  it  required 
that  a  man  should  rebuff  the  tempters  on  the  right  and  on  the  left,  and 
hold  himself  steadily  to  his  purpose,  he  did  not  choose  riches.  He 
chose  self-indulgence ;  he  chose  the  wine-cup ;  he  chose  pleasures  ;  he 
chose  companionship ;  he  chose  the  present,  and  let  the  future  take 
care  of  itself  And  when  he  came  down  to  that  which  he  had  chosen 
— pleasm'e  and  its  outcome — he  was  bankrupt  and  destroyed. 

Oh !  the  destructions  that  go  on !  Oh !  the  annual  waste  of  the 
best  blood  !  Why,  if  men  should  be  carried  on  purpose,  by  the  hand 
of  the  tp'ant,  to  such  shambles  of  execution  as  they  go  to  of  then'  own 
accord ;  if  young  men  were  to  be  put  upon  such  racks  as  I  see  them 
voluntarily  bring  themselves  to,  it  would  be  thought  to  be  a  most  out- 
rageous thing.  Sometimes  for  days  and  days  it  seems  as  though  I 
walked  upon  graves  and  in  charnel  houses.  Am  not  I  in  the  confi- 
dence of  those  who  are  in  trouble  ?  Do  they  not  come  to  me  as  to  a 
physician*?  And  do  I  not  see  that  multitudes  of  men  are  on  the  rack, 
that  they  have  been  there  till  then*  brains  and  their  marrow  are  rotten, 
and  that  they  have  destroyed  themselves'?  Do  I  not  see  young  men 
who  are  wasted  by  the  cup,  and  by  the  damnable  house  of  pleasure,  and 
by  the  strange  woman's  snare  ?  And  do  I  not  know  that  there  have 
come  down,  hundreds  and  thousands  of  them  every  year,  young  men, 
the  sweetest-hearted,  the  truest  in  then-  original  nature,  and  the  best- 
intentioned  ?  And  did  they  choose  fortune  ?  Did  they  choose  to  be 
something  ?  No,  they  only  desired  it.  They  did  not  choose  it.  And 
there  is  a  great  difference  between  desiring  a  thing  and  choosing  a 
thing.     A  fool  can  desire  ;  but  it  is  a  man  that  chooses. 

3.  There  are  a  great  many  among  you  who  choose,  as  you  sujipose, 
to  so  grow  lip  that  you  shall  have  an  established  reputation,  and  the 
things  which  properly  belong  to  a  good  character.  But  stoj) !  Ai-e 
you  not  using  those  two  words  interchangeably,  as  if  they  were  the 
equivalents  of  each  other?  You  want  a  good  character,  and  you  Avant 
a  good  reputation,  but  there  is  a  great  gulf  between  these  two  things. 
There  is  many  a  man  that  has  a  good  character,  but  has  comparatively 
little  reputation.  In  the  long  run,  and  ordinarily,  a  man's  reputation 
will  be  as  his  character  is ;  but  for  a  little  while  a  man  may  have  a  bad 
character  and  a  good  reputation,  or  a  good  character  and  a  bad  repu- 
tation. And  eveiy  young  man  ought  to  know  exactly  what  it  is  that 
he  wants.  Is  it  a  reputation  that  you  want  ?  Is  life  a  drama  ?  Ai"6 
you  actors  ■?  Do  you  want  a  tinselled  costume  ?  Or,  is  life  an  earnest 
thing ;  and  do  you  want  realities  *?  There  is  many  a  man  that  wants 
to  be  thought  wise  ;  but  do  you  want  to  be  wise  ?      There  is  many  a 


DESIRINQ  AND  GEO  0 SING.  59 

man  that  wants  influence ;  but  do  you  want^o?c»er  / — ^for  influence  is 
nothin<i-  but  the  shadow  which  power  casts.  There  is  many  a  man  that 
wants  to  seem  high ;  but  do  you  want  to  he  high  ? 

Oil !  see  what  a  scrambUng  there  is.  See  how  many  there  ai*e  who 
think  that  if  they  can  get  their  names  in  the  newspapers ;  if  they  can 
get  themselves  represented  in  some  striking  picture  or  book  that  is  to 
come  out ;  if  they  can  connect  themselves  with  some  little  successful 
enterprise,  and  get  a  name  for  shrewdness ;  if  they  can  dazzle  the  imag- 
inations of  men,  and  get  folks  to  think  this,  that,  or  the  other  thing  of 
them,  th  ey  think  they  have  something  substantial ;  but  nothing  that  a  man 
has  is  substantial,  unless  it  has  roots  in  himself  All  that  in  you  which 
is  simply  the  reflection  of  other  people's  thoughts  about  you,  is  a  mere 
shadow ;  and  it  avails  but  little.     What  you  are  stands  by  you. 

If  you  are  mean,  your  reputation  for  generosity  will  not  spare  you 
long.  If  you  are  stingy,  I  do  not  care  what  your  reputation  is,  you 
cannot  be  so  munificent  in  giving  away  that  the  gaunt  bones  of  your 
stinginess  will  not  stick  out.  People  Avho  give  for  praise,  get  what 
they  give  for.  They  get  their  reward  for  a  while.  Our  Master,  in 
speaking  of  those  who  made  long  prayers,  said,  "Verily,  they  have 
theu'  reward."  Everything  gets  its  reward.  Every  seed  produces  its 
own  kind.  "Whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap." 
Where  men  seek  to  build  up  a  reputation  without  any  concern  as  to 
their  character,  it  is  but  a  very  little  time  that  they  decive  anybody  but 
their  own  selves.  They  do  not  deceive  then-  fellow-men,  nor  God,  nor 
the  devil. 

There  are  many  men  who  come  into  life,  and  begin  life,  feeling  that 
they  desire  to  have  an  honorable  name.  They  do  desire  it ;  but  whether 
they  choose  it  or  not  we  can  tell  when  we  see  how  they  act.  If  they 
are  circumspect,  vigilant,  and  self-denying ;  if  they  take  a  high  stand- 
ard ;  if  they  steadily  press  their  way  up  ;  if  they  buflet  every  temj^ta^ 
tion  ;  if  they  are  really  forming  themselves  on  a  high  model,  and 
are  seeking  for  honor  and  glory,  then  we  say  that  they  have  chosen  such 
a  name.     Otherwise  we  say  that  they  have  merely  desired  it. 

4.  There  are  very  many  persons  who  desire  the  happiness  which 
comes  from  well-doing ;  and  they  also  desire  clandestine  enjoyment  of 
evil-doing.  My  friends,  there  is  nothing  in  this  world  which  more  men 
are  mistaken  about  than  the  possibility  of  being  wicked  underhandedly, 
and  having  good  on  the  top  of  it.  You  can  make  a  loaf  of  cake  very 
heavy,  and  coat  it  with  sugar,  and  put  ornaments  on  the  top  of  it,  so 
that  it  shall  look  admu-able.  That  is  the  way  many  people  undertake 
to  make  their  lives — at  the  bottom  heavy  as  dough,  and  on  the  top 
covered  with  sugar.  There  are  men  who  want  to  be  selfish,  and  yet 
want  to  seem  to  be  benevolent.    They  want  to  be  mean,  and  they  want 


60  DESIRINQ  AND  CEOOSma. 

to  look  and  seem  as  though  they  were  generous  as  a  prince.  You  can- 
not do  it.     You  cannot  join  those  two  things  together. 

There  are  a  great  many  men  who  want  to  have  a  reputation  for 
purity  and  vutue,  while  they  play  with  then*  tongue  in  secret  places. 
They  think  that  secretiveness  can  cover  out  of  sight  what  is  disreputa- 
ble. They  think  they  can  do  God's  work  with  one  hand,  and  the  dev- 
il's work  with  the  other  hand. 

Suppose  a  man  should  establish  a  magazine  for  grinding  charcoal 
in  the  first  story  of  his  house,  while  his  books  and  pictures  were  in  the 
next  story.  Do  you  suppose  a  man  can  grind  charcoal  down  stau's, 
and  keep  things  up  staks  clean  ?  The  charcoal  will  not  go  up  by  the 
ton,  but  the  impalpable  dust  will  find  its  way  up.  The  ever-indus- 
trious air  will  cany  it  thither.  Some  will  go  out  at  the  door,  some  will 
go  up  thi-ough  the  windows,  and  some  will  get  through  the  crevices, 
until  by-and-by  his  fine  engravings  are  all  smutted,  and  his  books  are 
all  grimed,  and  the  ceilings  are  changing  in  color,  and  the  man's 
face  is  turning  from  its  natural  hue.  You  cannot  grind  charcoal 
down-stahs  and  keep  clean  up-stau-s.  But  many  men  are  trying  that 
which  is  just  as  impossible.  Duty  dogs,  they  are.  Miserable,  filthy 
creatures,  they  are.  Wicked,  self-indulgent  men,  they  are.  They  are 
men  who  would  rather  die  than  have  theu*  secret  life  turned  inside  out, 
so  that  folks  could  see  it.  They  are  men  that  are  not  so  much  afraid 
of  the  gi'eat  day  of  judgment  hereafter  as  of  the  gi'eat  day  of  judgment 
now.  They  would  not  for  all  the  world  have  the  truth  respecting  them- 
selves come  out.  And  yet,  they  think  they  are  moving  in  the  most 
eminent  sphere,  that  it  is  all  quiet,  and  that  nobody  knows  anything 
about  it.  There  never  was  a  greater  mistake  inade  than  that.  You 
cannot  harmonize  these  two  things.  "  You  cannot  serve  God  and  Mam- 
mon." You  cannot  obey  Christ  and  Belial.  You  may  have  two  mas- 
ters, or  twenty,  if  they  all  stand  in  a  line  ;  but  if  one  stands  aside  from 
another  you  cannot  follow  them  all.  You  cannot  go  in  opj)osite  ways. 
You  must  choose  between  them,  and  take  one  or  the  other.  And 
desiring  is  not  choosing.  When  men  are  doing  wrong,  and  they  know 
it,  and  regret  it,  as  they  often  do ;  when  wrong  puts  them  into  this 
or  that  misalliance ;  when  they  are  filled  with  shame — which  is  God's 
quickener  of  the  conscience ;  when  they  come  very  near  the  verge  of 
destruction,  and  are  filled  with  fear;  when  they  come  to  a  sense  of 
their  danger,  so  that  they  desh'e  to  be  free  from  their  wickedness,  they 
only  desire  it.  They  do  not  choose  it.  If  they  did  choose  it,  they 
could  break  their  bonds,  and  rise  up  and  be  free. 

When,  therefore,  a  man  says,  "  I  want  to  leave  my  courses,"  I 
wait  and  see  Avhether  he  does  or  not.  When  a  man  says,  "  I  want  to  be 
a  better  man  ;  I  want  no  longer  to  transgress  the  fundamental  canons 


DE SIRING  AND  CHOOSING.  61 

of  morality ;  I  do  not  want  to  be  employed  in  a  wi'ong  business,  or  in 
a  wi'ong  way  of  conducting  a  right  business,"  I  watch  him  to  see 
whether  it  is  so. 

Ah !  my  friends,  I  dare  say  you  desire  reformation,  but  you  do  not 
choose  it.  You  may  just  as  well  understand  it.  It  is  good  for  you  to 
know  precisely  where  you  stand.  Some  of  your  fainter  feelings  do  de- 
su-e  better  things ;  but  yom*  stronger  feelings  take  hold  of  wi'ong  things, 
and  cling  to  them. 

5.  Rising  from  the  question  of  morality  to  that  of  sj)u-ituality, 
there  are  a  great  many  persons,  who,  all  their  life  long,  have  the  im- 
pression that  they  should  be  Christians,  and  mean  to  be  Christians, 
and  hope  they  shall  be.  They  say,  "I  respect  religion."  That  plea  is 
often  used  as  an  instrument  of  defence.  There  are  many  men  who 
employ  it  when  a  clergyman  comes  along.  They  say,  "  I  know  I  am 
not  as  good  as  I  ought  to  be  ;  I  am  aware  that  I  am  not  a  Christian  ; 
but  I  have  the  greatest  respect  for  religion  and  the  Church."  Perhaps 
you  would  not  respect  the  Church  so  much  if  you  knew  all  about  it — 
for  it  is  your  ignorance,  frequently,  that  leads  you  to  resjoect  it,  even  as 
much  as  you  do. 

I  talk  with  these  persons,  and  say,  "  Do  you  not  choose  to  be  a 
good  manf  "Yes;  oh  yes."  "Do  you  not  choose  to  repent f 
"Yes."  "And  to  believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ?"  "Yes."  "To 
rise  up  into  the  spirit  of  communion  with  him."  "Yes."  "And 
to  live  by  faith  of  Christ,  and  love  to  God  and  man  f  "  Yes."  "  And 
to  purify  your  life  with  everything  that  is  consistent  with  the  divine 
will  T  "  Yes,  it  is  eminently  deshable,"  you  say.  This,  then,  is  pre- 
cisely the  ground  on  which  you  stand  :  you  have  the  moral  sensibility 
to  see  that  it  is  desu-able,  but  you  have  not  moral  stamina  enough  to 
choose  it. 

You  prefer  the  present.  You  prefer  to  act  in  the  line  of  your  hab- 
its. And  there  are  a  great  many  of  you  who  act  against  your  best  im- 
pulses. There  are  men  here  who  believe  in  conscience,  and  i-ectitude, 
and  honor,  and  acknowledge  God  to  be  then- Commander  and  Captain; 
and  yet  they  do  not  hesitate  to  break  their  promises  to  him,  and  violate 
their  duty  toward  him.  Multitudes  of  men  there  are,  who,  toward  the 
divine  Being  are  living  in  the  most  open  violation  of  that  which  to- 
ward their  fellow  men  they  hold  and  cherish  with  their  utmost  sensi- 
bility. 

How  many,  to-night,  if  I  should  say,  "  Do  not  you  desu-e  to  be  a 
Christian?"  would  not  say,  "Yes,  I  do  desire  it."  Have  you  chosen 
it?  are  you  willing  to  live  for  the  things  that  it  is  necessary  to  live  for? 
Are  you  willing  to  take  the  steps  that  it  is  necessary  to  take,  are 
you  willing  to  put  forth  the  exertions  that  must  be  put  forth,  if  you 


62  'desiring  and  choosing.' 

are  to  be  a  true  Christian  ?  It  is  not  enough  iox  yon  to  stand  aloof 
and  say,  "  Oh !  that  I  were  only  as  good  a  Christian  as  I  think  my  fa- 
ther was !"  It  is  not  enough  for  you  to  sit  in  the  gallery  and  look  wist- 
fully down  and  see  the  elements  of  Christ's  body  broken,  and  distributed 
among  the  people  of  God,  and  say,  "  I  Avould  give  all  the  world  to  be 
among  those  persons."  No,  you  would  not.  There  is  one  little  thing 
in  this  world  that  you  would  not  give,  and  that  is  yom*  heart.  I  like 
to  see  persons  up  in  the  gallery  dm-ing  the  administration  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  but  I  do  not  like  to  see  them  there  too  often.  Stay  on  com- 
munion Sundays,  and  look  at  the  solemn  service,  and  let  it  sink  deep 
into  your  heart ;  but  oh !  if  you  have  been  stopping  once,  and  twice 
and  thrice,  the  next  time  you  stop,  it  should  be  down  below,  with  those 
that  are  partaking  of  these  elements.  But  for  you  to  come  years,  and 
years,  and  years,  as  spectators  of  these  things — yoii  know  it  is  not 
right.  You  know  that  while  you  desire  to  be  a  Christian,  you  choose 
to  be  an  enemy  of  God — a  man  of  the  world,  without  God  and  with- 
out hope. 

I  will  not,  with  applications,  pursue  this  subject  further.  I  will, 
in  closing,  make  one  or  two  remarks  other  than  these. 

The  first  is,  that  we  see  in  the  discriminations  that  have  been  made, 
and  the  illustrations  that  have  been  given,  the  explanation  of  a  vast 
amount  of  religious  susceptibility  which  produces  very  little  result  in 
life.  We  see  how  it  is  that  men  in  church  are  carried  up  by  singing, 
by  prayer,  by  the  present  effect  of  preaching  upon  their  minds,  to  a 
point  which  looks  as  though  it  would  certainly  culminate  in  true  piety, 
and  that  then  they  go  home  and  are  as  they  that  look  into  a  glass,  and 
see  forms,  and  then  forget  what  manner  of  forms  they  were  of  Noth- 
ing but  susceptibility  was  exercised  in  them.  There  was  no  moral 
purpose  foi-med.  There  was  no  choice  reached.  But  they  think  that 
they  are  getting  better  ;  they  flatter  themselves  that  they  are  real  grow- 
ing Christians,  and  that  they  are  coming  nearer  to  the  Christian  life. 

There  are  a  great  many  men  here  who  think  that  they  are  sinful 
out  of  church,  and  do  not  think  they  are  Christians.  They  know  they 
are  not  Christians  ;  yet  they  feel  that,  on  the  whole,  their  moral  sensi- 
bility to  some  sides  of  religious  influence  is  increasing.  They  have  a 
vague  impression  that  they  are  accumulating  treasure.  I  do  not  un- 
dertake to  say  that  men  are  not  benefitted  in  many  respects  under  such 
circumstances.  I  have  seen  men  that  were  not  gathered  in  at  one  revi- 
val, but  were  at  the  next  one  ;  and  I  have  seen  j^ersons  that  went  on 
acquiring  more  and  more  susceptibility,  and  gathering  more  and  more 
of  religious  influence,  and  yet  were  going  further  and  fm'ther  from  any- 
thing like  decisiveness  of  choice,  and  contenting  themselves  with  what 
amounted  to  nothing  more  than  religious  revery.     They  were  persona 


DESIRING  Aim  CHOOSING.  63 

who  took  pleasure  in  thinking  vaguely,  and  thinking  at  large,  on  the 
Bubject  of  religion  ;  but  they  never  got  further  than  that.  They  never 
came  to  a  decision  or  choice.  And  so  there  are  hundi'eds  that  go  on 
through  life,  like  the  clouds  that  do  not  rain  in  summer.  They  gather, 
and  promise  a  shower,  and  then  break,  and  pass  away,  and  there  is  not 
a  di"op  that  falls. 

I  remark,  again,  that  a  man's  choice  may  always  be  known  by 
what  he  does,  rather  than  by  what  he  says.  Therefore  let  me  see  what 
a  man's  life  is,  and  I  know  what  his  choice  has  been.  Whatever  a  man 
is,  he  chose  to  be — I  mean  within  the  bounds  of  possibility.  A  man 
may  be  poor,  and  may  not  be  able  to  change  his  condition.  A  man  may 
be  short  of  statue,  and  not  be  able  to  add  one  cubit  to  it.  But  in  the 
department  of  men's  choices,  what  a  man  is,  is  determined  by  what  he 
does.  If  you  drink,  you  choose  to  di'ink.  If  you  swear,  you  choose 
to  swear.  K  you  lie,  you  choose  to  lie.  If  you  are  hard-hearted,  you 
choose  to  be  hard-hearted.  If  you  oppose  the  ways  of  virtue,  you 
choose  to  oppose  the  ways  of  vulue.  You  choose  the  thing  that  you 
do.  If,  on  the  whole,  you  are  manly  and  ti-ue,  you  choose  manhness 
and  truth.  It  is  well  for  a  man  to  analyze  his  life,  to  journalize  it,  to 
write  it  down,  and  let  it  lie  before  him.  He  can  then  di-aw  his  own 
portrait.  This  is  the  more  important,  because  men  pm-posely  deceive 
themselves,  and  hide  from  themselves  then*  real  preferences  and  their 
strongest  tendencies. 

I  remark,  once  more,  that  the  power  of  desire  increases,  and  the 
power  of  choosing  decreases,  as  men  go  on  through  the  stages  of  an 
unregenerate  and  wicked  life.  It  is  the  reverse  in  a  holy  life.  The 
power  of  forming  desires  into  choices  increases  as  a  man  advances  in 
the  Christian  life.  Whatever  he  desires  within  the  bounds  of  possi- 
bility he  can  seek  after,  and  gain,  and  keep.  In  the  case  of  men  who 
live  out  of  Christ  and  out  of  religion,  the  opposite  takes  place.  Then* 
desires  augment,  but  their  power  to  choose  dimmishes.  And  the  want 
of  power  to  choose  is  the  destruction  of  thousands,  and  thousands,  and 
thousands.  It  is  the  will-power  which  men  need ;  it  is  this  central 
stamina  that  enables  one  to  choose ;  and  they  have  enfeebled  and  wasted 
it.  So  that  one  of  the  final  mischiefs  of  wickedness  in  this  world,  is, 
that  men  become  reprobate.  Some  persons  are  opposed  to  that  word ; 
but  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  man's  going  on  and  perverting  himself 
to  so  gi-eat  an  extent,  morally,  that  there  is  not  within  his  reach  the 
means  of  recuperation.  Can  you  tamper  with  the  eye  until  you  have 
destroyed  its  organization  ?  Can  you  tamper  with  the  tongue,  till  it 
ceases  to  perform  its  legitimate  functions  ?  Can  you  tamper  Avith  the 
physical  structure,  till  it  is  unfitted  for  the  offices  which  it  was  designed 
to  fulfill?     Can  you  tamper  with  the  intellectual  structuj-e  till  it  is  all 


64  DESIRING  AND  CHOOSING. 

awry,  and  reports  falsely  ?  So  a  man  can  tamper  with  his  tastes,  and 
his  affections,  and  his  sensibilities,  till  they  cease  to  have  then-  normal 
action.  There  is  many  a  man  that  goes  on  drinking,  although  he  abhors 
the  ditch  into  which  he  has  fallen.  There  is  many  a  poor  drunken  man 
who  covets  respectability  in  those  hours  when  the  illusion  is  dispelled, 
and  there  comes  a  little  calm.  There  are  hours  in  which  he  bethinks 
himself  again  of  his  earlier  and  happier  days.  And  I  believe  that  the 
bitterest  2:)rayers  which  ever  go  to  heaven,  are  prayers  of  poor  drunk- 
ards, in  their  intei^vals  of  remorse  for  the  past,  and  longing  for  the  fu- 
ture. Why,  then,  do  they  not  break  away  from  the  cup  ?  Because 
the  power  of  choice  is  destroyed  in  them,  almost — quite  in  some  in- 
stauces.  For  I  believe  that  di-unkenness  becomes  a  disease  for  which 
a  man  is  totally  irresponsible  after  a  while.  He  has  broken  down  the 
very  mainspring  of  character.  And  in  such  stages  as  this  he  should  be 
treated  just  as  the  insane  are  treated.  He  should  be  put  into  an  asylum. 
He  should  be  dealt  with  as  we  deal  with  little  children,  and  those  who 
cannot  take  care  of  themselves. 

And  as  it  is  with  intemperance,  so  it  is  with  other  wicked  ways. 
They  come  to  that  point  where  desu-es  are  more  j^owerful  than  choices ; 
and  men  may  go  on  in  them  tUl  then*  power  of  choosing  is  shrunk  to 
the  minimum,  if  not  entirely  destroyed. 

This  subject  is  full,  not  only  of  instruction,  but  of  warning.  Better 
is  the  man  who  lives  in  a  very  naiTow  cu'cle  of  ideas,  but  who  has  the 
power  to  form  wishes  into  choices,  than  the  man  who  lives  in  a  larger 
experience,  but  has  no  power  of  turning  his  susceptibilities  into  prefer- 
ences, and  his  preferences  into  choices.  The  benefits  which  you  re- 
ceive do  not  depend  upon  how  much  suscejitibility  you  have,  but 
upon  your  power  to  choose  them.  And  if  you  would  measure  your 
manhood,  and  ascertain  the  steps  along  your  future  course ;  if  you  I 
would  form  a  prophecy  concerning  yourself,  measure  at  that  point 
where  desires  are  converted  into  choices. 

If  you  choose  the  life  to  come,  all  your  present  life  will  be  subor- 
dinated to  that  glorious  choice,  and  men  will  see,  and  angels  will  see, ' 
and  God  will  see,  that  you  are  giving  up  the  pleasures  of  sense,  and  of 
this  life,  that  you  may  take  hold  of  life  eternal.  But  if  you  choose 
this  world,  with  all  its  risks  and  perils,  God  will  see,  and  angels  will 
see,  and  all  men  will  see,  and  you  yom-self  will  see,  that  whatever  you 
may  have  wished,  you  chose  the  life  that  now  is,  and  risked,  if  you  did 
not  choose,  the  destruction  of  your  soul.  "For  what  shall  it  profit  a 
man  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul?  or, 
what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul  ?" 

Take  this  lesson  home  with  you.     It  is  not  in  my  power  to  convertl 
you.     It  is  not  in  ray  power  to  change  you  in  any  way.     You  must 


DESIRING  AND  CHOOSING.  65 

change  yourselves.  And  if  it  is  difficult  now,  will  it  not  be  more  so 
next  year  ?  If  it  is  hard  to-night,  do  not  put  it  off,  lest  it  be  impossi- 
ble next  year,  or  in  years  to  come.  "Now  is  the  accepted  time."  The 
difficulty  to-day  of  turning  from  sin  to  holiness  is  the  measure  of  the 
necessity — the  instant  necessity — for  your  doing  so. 

May  God  give  you  wisdom  to  emulate  hun  of  old,  who  chose  rather 
to  suffer  affliction  xoith  the  people  of  God,  than  to  enjoy  the  pleasures 
of  sin  for  a  season,  and  esteemed  the  reproach  of  Christ  greater 
riches  than  the  treasures  of  Egypt,  and  had  respect  unto  the  recom- 
pe7ise  of  the  reward,  and  endured  to  the  end,  and  was  gloriously 
saved. 


-•••- 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

Thou  blessed  God,  lifted  up  above  all  human  calamity,  above  weakness, 
above  thought  of  sorrow,  thou  art  the  most  merciful  and  the  most  conde- 
scending. And  all  that  we  see  among  men  of  tenderness  and  of  kindness  is 
something  of  thee.  Thou  art  the  source  of  pity  and  compassion.  With 
thee  is  mercy.  It  dwells  with  thee,  and  was  born  in  thee.  And  all  things 
that  are  to  be  desired  in  thought  and  in  feeling  are  of  God.  We  rejoice  that 
there  is  not  Hfted  into  everlasting  power  any  hard  and  compelling  dynasty 
without  pity.  Thou  that  art  eternal  love  dost  dwell  in  the  centre ;  and  above 
all  power  is  thy  power ;  above  all  wisdom  is  thy  wisdom ;  and  everywhere, 
in  heaven  and  upon  earth,  thou  art  moving  all  things  toward  beneficence. 
Thou  art  bringing  all  causes  to  work  together  for  good.  Thou  art  filling 
the  earth,  little  by  little,  with  righteousness.  And  though  thy  delay  seems 
to  us  long,  it  is  because  our  lives  are  short,  whilst  thou  dost  dwell  in  eter- 
nity, and  to  thee  things  move  fast,  though  ages  seem  to  intervene  between 
the  beginnings  and  the  ends.  And  thou  art  content,  and  art  pressing  for- 
ward the  grandeur  and  glory  of  thy  kingdom.  It  shall  yet  open  and  grow 
more  gloriously  than  we  have  dreamed.  And  we  shall  discern  it.  As  afore- 
time, holy  men  desired  to  see,  and  died  without  the  sight,  so  we,  in  the 
consummation  of  things,  discerning  the  beginnings  of  the  blossom  and  of 
the  fruit,  long  to  behold  the  millennial  fullness,  and  shall  not  see  it  from 
earth  ;  but  in  more  glorious  vision,  with  cleansed  eyes,  and  clear  and  stead- 
fast hearts,  we  shall  behold,  from  the  other  side,  the  ends,  and  all  the  glories 
of  immortality. 

And  now  we  desire  to  be  on  that  side  in  the  struggle.  We,  too,  have 
our  own  battle.  Every  one  of  us  has  his  contest  to  fight.  Give  to  us  brave 
hearts.  Give  to  us  firm  purposes.  May  we  meet  every  adversary  undaunt- 
edly, and  stand  to  our  duty.  We  are  thine.  We  belong  to  thee.  May  we 
be  ashamed  to  withhold  from  our  lawful  Master  his  just  due.  And  since 
thou  art  not  Master  as  much  as  Father;  since  thou  art  Lover  as  well  as. 
Judge  and  Commander,  grant  that  we  may  with  more  willingness  and  alac- 
rity perform  e^ery  duty  to  thee. 

Lord,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  we  may  be  faithful  according  to  our  light ; 
according  to  our  consciences.  May  we  not  put  away  the  things  which  are 
unpleasant.  May  we  give  ourselves  manfully,  and  with  all  our  heart,  to  the 
right  way,  that  we  may  walk  therein,  and  continue  therein,  and  that  we 


ee  DESIRING  AKD  CROOSINa. 

may  draw  others  with  us,  until  at  last  "we  shall  stand  in  Zion  and  before 
God. 

Oh !  pity  the  infirm.  Pity  those  that  are  wistful,  but  are  not  resolved. 
Pity  those  who  look  from  afar,  and  wait  for  help,  and  find  it  not.  Pity  all 
those  who,  without  thy  power,  and  without  human  help  inspired  of  thee, 
most  miserably  perish.  Lord,  gather  them,  we  beseech  of  thee.  Fill  our 
hearts  with  earnest  desire.  May  there  be  more  and  more  who  shall  labor 
for  men's  souls.  Behold  how  great  is  the  waste.  Things  are  perishing  on 
every  side ;  but  nothing  so  much  as  man.  What  waste  there  is  in  all  crea- 
tion !  But  nowhere  is  waste  so  piteous,  so  needless,  and  so  wide-spread  as 
among  men.  Pluck  them,  we  beseech  of  thee,  from  their  dissipations,  and 
from  their  iutemperance,  and  from  their  lust  for  greed,  and  from  their  striv- 
ing, and  from  cruelties,  and  from  immoralities,  and  from  dishonesties  and 
frauds,  from  vanity,  and  conceit,  and  pride,  from  hard-heartedness  and 
worldly-mindedness,  from  every  iniquity.  Bring  them,  we  beseech  of  thee, 
into  the  sweet  realm  of  purity  and  love,  into  fidelity  and  worship,  that  they 
may  love  God  and  love  man,  and  be  saved. 

And  we  pray  for  the  outpouring  of  thy  Spirit  in  more  copious  effusion 
from  church  to  church.  Come  forth,  O  Prince  of  the  Soul !  Know  thine 
own,  and  call  them  with  an  effectual  calling,  and  bring  home  many  sons  and 
daughters  to  thyself  in  this  great  city. 

And  we  pray  that  thy  word  may  be  preached  with  more  power  and  fidel- 
ity in  all  the  churches  of  our  land.  Cleanse  the  morals  of  this  people.  Set 
up  thy  standard  everywhere.  And  to  its  bright  light  may  there  come  troop- 
ing innumerable  souls.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  overtmn  and  overturn  until 
he  whose  right  it  is  shall  come  and  reign. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise.  Father,  Son  and  Spirit,  ever  more. 
Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  the 
word  of  admonition  and  instruction.  We  pray  that  it  may  give  light  to  the 
understanding,  and  warning  to  those  who  are  in  peril,  and  caution  to  us  all. 
May  we  examine  ourselves  to  know  how  much  we  are  living  upon  merely  a 
vague  and  profitless  desire,  and  how  much  we  are  building  ourselves  up  by 
choices.  Grant  that  we  may  choose  not  only  the  name  of  Christ  and  his 
service,  but  his  spirit ;  and  every  day  more  and  more.  And  may  we  con- 
vert all  our  tastes  and  all  our  susceptibilities  into  those  choices  which  shall 
make  us  men  in  Christ  Jesus.  Go  with  any  who  desire  more  knowledge 
and  light.  Open  their  understandings.  Fill  them  with  light  by  thy  good 
Spirit.  If  there  be  any  who  are  inquiring  their  way  to  thee,  bring  them  to 
a  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus.  And  we  pray  that  there  may  be  many  born 
into  the  kingdom,  and  that  all  our  places  may  be  filled  with  the  sons  of 
those  that  are  ransomed  and  rejoicing  in  the  Lord.  And  to  thy  name  shall 
be  the  praise,  Father,  Son  and  Spirit,    Amen. 


IV. 

Spiritual  Stumbling-Blocks. 


INVOCATION. 


April  3, 1870. 

THOU  that  flwelleth  in  light,  and  from  -whom  come  all  sweet  and 
pleasant  things,  our  reconciled  and  blessed  God,  meet  us  this  morning, 
and  over  against  our  sinfulness  and  guilt,  place  thy  mercy,  that  it  may 
shine  out ;  and  make  it  seem  most  beauteous.  May  we  feel  this  morning, 
that  we  have  a  Father.  May  we  rise  up  into  thy  embrace.  May  we  be 
at  home  with  thee.  May  we  have  that  ecstatic  peace  which  they  have  who 
know  how  to  find  their  way  home  to  their  God.  May  every  thought  that 
is  not  in  subjection  to  thee,  be  controlled.  And  may  all  our  souls  this 
day  be  enriched  and  come  forth  as  to  a  wedding.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that 
thus  the  service  of  the  sanctuary,  the  meditations  thereon,  the  offering  of 
praise,  the  communion  of  prayer,  all  our  fellowship  with  each  other,  and  all 
the  joy  of  the  day  at  home,  may  praise  thee  and  bless  us :  whicli  we  ask  for 
Christ's  sake.  Anien. 
4 


SPIEITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKS. 


"  Cast  ye  np,  cast  ye'up,  prepare  the  way,  take  np  the  stumbling-block  out  of  the  way  of  my 
people."— ISA.  LVII.  14. 


In  eastern  lands  it  is,  to  this  day,  as  it  was  from  the  beginning.  | 
Society  has  no  life  in  itself,  and  is  strong  only  through  the  government. 
Whatsoever,  therefore,  is  for  the  common  good,  languishes.  Roads, 
which  are  one  of  the  distinguishing  elements  of  civilization,  were  either 
wholly  -wanting,  in  olden  times,  and  in  oriental  lands,  or  were  mere 
paths.  Whenever  the  king,  or  some  great  personage,  would  travel, 
couriers  were  disj^atched  in  advance.  The  local  chiefs  were  summoned, 
the  people  were  di-afted,  and  the  road  upon  which  the  royal  cortege  was 
to  pass  was  prepared  for  that  special  occasion.  The  holes  were  filled ; 
the  narrow  places  were  widened  ;  the  rocks  or  fallen  trees  Avere  taken 
away  ;  the  rough  places  were  made  smooth.  This  required  both  that 
much  be  added  in  some  places,  and  much  taken  away  in  others — much 
"  cutting  and  filling,"  in  the  language  of  modern  engineering. 

In  the  passage  which  I  have  selected,  the  cry  goes  forth,  not  in  be- 
half of  a  conqueror,  or  a  sovereign,  but  in  behalf  of  God's  people. 
They  are  the  honored  procession  for  which  a  road  is  to  be  prepared. 
"  Cast  up,  cast  u^)," — that  is,  heap  up,  fill  in — "  prepare  the  way,  take 
up  the  stumbling-block  out  of  the  way  of  my  people." 

The  figure,  then,  is  striking.  As  royalty  demanded  for  itself  a 
smooth  path,  a  road  from  which  all  dangers  and  obstnictions  were 
taken  aAvay,  so  a  soul  that  is  on  its  way  to  God  has  thrown  over  it,  as 
it  were,  something  of  the  sovereignity  which  it  approaches,  and  a  mys- 
terious voice  is  heard,  crying,  "  Cleai"  the  way !  heap  up !  heap  up ! 
cast  out  the  stumbling-stones." 

The  application  of  this  passage  to  ourselves  is  obvious.  Life  is  a 
road.  But  each  man  must  know  his  own  way.  It  is  smooth  to  some. 
It  is  rough  to  others.  Some  travel  on  fist  and  surely.  Others  are 
hindered,  stumbled,  stopped.  Some  of  you  have  gone  on  conciously 
and  very  far  in  the  Christian  life.  Some  of  you  have  hardly  moved 
beyond  the  point  at  which  you  began. 

It  may  inspire  you  to  enterprise,  if  I  shall  point  out  some  of  the 
obstacles  which  hinder  the  growth  of  men  in  then-  life  as  Christians. 

Sunday  Mobninq,  April  3,  1870.  Lesson:  Isa.  LVn.  Hymns  (Plymouth  Collection):  Noa 
639,  660,  566. 


0^ 


68  SPMITUAL  STUMBLINO-BLOCES. 

To  give  a  personal  and  spiritual  application  to  this  passage — Cast 
up,  cast  up,  remove  the  stumblmg -blocks,  the  stumbling-stones — I  ap- 
prehend, in  the  first  place,  that  the  want  of  a  true  and  large  ideal  of 
Christian  life,  as  an  inward  spiritual  and  divine  disposition,  and  the 
attempt  to  live  in  mere  conformity  to  rules,  and  with  a  vague  impres- 
sion that  if  one  conforms  to  the  church  he  shall  in  some  way,  he  knows 
scarcely  how,  be  saved,  is  itself  one  of  the  causes  of  perpetual  stum- 
bling. The  attempt  to  live  merely  for  the  fulfillment  of  social  morali- 
ties ;  the  attempt  to  live  so  that  all  the  rules  which  are  prescribed  by 
all  those  who  are  governing  in  the  Lord,  shall  be  obeyed ;  the  attempt 
to  live  upon  any  such  low  conception  as  that  of  regulations,  conven- 
tions, observances,  is  sure  to  make  the  Christian  life  poor,  and  the  travel 
uncertain.  For  a  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus  is  the  apostoHc  defini- 
nition  of  being  a  Chiistian.  It  is  the  endeavor  to  substitute  for  the 
worldly  character  a  divine  and  spiritual  one.  The  kingdom  of  God 
is  to  be  within  us.  The  evidences  of  it  are  to  be  hope,  and  joy, 
and  faith,  and  love,  and  fidelity.  And  the  aim  of  the  true  Chris- 
tian life  is  not  so  much  to  keep  its  ordinances,  or  to  believe  in  this  or 
that  disclosure  of  technical  truth  :  it  is  larger  manhood,  patterned  on 
Christ  Jesus.  It  is  to  make  yourself  nobler,  purer,  sweeter,  truer,  more 
faithful,  more  heroic,  and  more  w^orthy  to  look  God  in  the  face,  and 
say,  "  I  am  thy  son."  We  are  exhorted^o  live  worthy  of  the  vocation 
with  which  we  are  called;  and  that  vocation  is  son-ship  in  Christ  Jesus. 
"We  are  to  live  so  that  we  shall  feel  worthy  to  say,  "  God  is  my  Father, 
and  I  am  his  son." 

Now,  our  aspiration  and  our  efibrt  will  be  in  proportion  to  the  dig- 
nity and  the  ideality,  if  I  may  so  say,  of  our  conception  of  what  religion 
is.  If  we  suppose  it  to  be  simply  not  doing  evil,  Ave  shall  put  forth  but 
very  little  exertion,  and  we  shall  receive  but  very  little  stimulus.  We 
are  not  to  pattern  our  religion  on  the  Ten  Commandments.  I  marvel  to 
see  them  so  much  in  vogue  as  they  are  yet — although  the  world  needs 
them.  The  Ten  Commandments,  which  were  the  common  law  for 
barbarians,  but  which  do  not  at  all  epitomize  Christian  life,  except  by 
a  stress  and  torture  of  construction  which,  if  applied  to  the  rest  of  the 
Scripture,  would  destroy  it, — I  marvel  that  men  so  stick  to  them. 
And  yet  I  do  not.  There  is  so  much  stealing,  and  lying,  and  wicked- 
ness in  the  world,  that  I  marvel  that  the  Ten  Commandments  are  not 
used  a  great  deal  more  than  they  are.  I  marvel  that,  instead  of  being 
wi'itten  merely  in  churches,  they  are  not  put  up  in  the  places  where 
Christian  men  do  theii*  business.  There  is  need  of  the  Ten  Command- 
ments. However,  a  man  might  keep  all  these,  and,  like  the  good  young 
man  in  the  Gospel,  do  all  the  outward  things  required  by  the  Lord 
Jesus  Chi'ist,  and  yet  come  short  of  fulfilling  the  demands  of  a  true 


SPIRITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKS.  69 

spiiitual  religion.     Our  effort  and  our  self-denial  will  be  in  proportion 
to  the  magnitude  of  the  conception  which  we  have  of  the  life  that  is  to 
be  led.     And  if  persons  come  into  the  Christian  life  with  the  impres- 
sion that  it  is  merely  rubbing  off  little  protuberances,  or  that  it  is 
merely  acting  in   confonnity  with   certain   requii-ements   of  modern 
Christian  societies,  they  will  make  slow  progress,  because  there  will  be 
no  motive  to  stimulate  them  to  high  endeavor  and  high  development. 
^      A  low  ideal,  then,  is  one  of  the  hindi'ances  which  men  meet  with  in 
living  a  Christian  life. 
-^  ^     Next,  the  attempt  to  live  a  Christian  life  with  a  low  tone  of  feeling, 
is  a  reason  why  men  do  not  make  greater  progress.     For,  if  there  is 
one  thing  that  is  exacted  more  emphatically  than  any  other,  it  is  inten- 
sity of  feeling.     Not  only  are  the  great  characteristic  traits  of  Christian 
experience  enjoined  in  the  Bible,  but  the  modes  of  exhibiting  those  traits 
is  enjoined  as  well.     In  all  the  wiitings  of  the  New  Testament  you  will 
find  that  fervor,  intensity,  is  required  in  every  feeling.     For,  although 
oui-  Master  does  not  use  the  same  language  that  the  apostles  do,  he  just 
as  much  teaches  the  necessity  of  this  intensity,  where  he  declares  that 
it  is  not  to  be  so  high  nor  so  inward  that  it  'cannot  show  itself;  that  it 
is  to  be  a  light  which  cannot  be  hid.     Men  never  phosphoresce  until 
they  come  to  intensity  of  feeling.     Men  never  glow  and  develop  them- 
selves so  that  eveiy  one  shall  know  that  thev  are  Christians,  unless  they 
have  had  intense  experiences.     In  other  words,  one  might  say  that  the 
peculiar  fruits  of  the  spirit  are  like  tropical  fruits,  which  cannot  ripen 
without  tropical  heat. 

We  have  moralities.  I  may  compare  them  to  the  plants  which 
grow  in  the  ground,  with  roots  in  the  dirt.  And  most  excellent  crops 
they  are  that  grow  so.  But  some  of  the  faii'est  blossoming  plants,  some 
of  the  most  beauteous  flowers  which  we  have  on  this  platform  from 
Sunday  to  Sunday,  are  such  as  these  air-plants  which  we  have  here  to- 
day. They  have  no  roots.  They  fasten  themselves  ujDon  a  branch 
of  a  tree,  and  swing  loose  in  the  air,  and  feed  by  their  leaves,  and  never 
touch  the  dirt ;  and  yet  they  blossom  freely  almost  all  the  season.  And 
most  fragrant  are  they.  Christian  graces  are  air-plants  which  do  not 
need  dirt  to  root  in.  Moralities  are  good  crops — oats,  wheat,  and  Avhat 
not.  Although  they  root  in  the  dut,  they  are  veiy  excellent  indeed. 
But  we  need  to  have  both.  "We  not  only  need  to  have  moralities, 
but  we  need  to  have  Christian  gi-aces,  which  are,  as  it  were,  orchids, 
epiphytes,  and  fed  upon  higher  and  purer  things — light,  and  moisture, 
and  other  elements  that  the  an*  contains. 

Now,  none  of  these  can  thrive  in  our  temperate  climate.  A  tem- 
perate climate  is  good  for  temperate  things ;  but  for  intensities  it  is  not 
good.     And  many  dominant  and  chai'acteristic  traits  of  Christian  cl/ar- 


70  SPIRITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKS. 

acter  are  such  as  never  can  be  brought  out  without  fervor.  Yet,  how 
many  men  there  are  who  are  afi'aid  of  it,  and  who,  seeing  it,  at  once 
think,  "  It  is  fanaticism !"  How  many  there  are  who  quote,  until  it  is 
worn  out  on  theu"  lips,  "  Let  yom*  moderation  be  known  unto  all  men  !" 
Where  is  it  that  men  are  afraid  ?  and  what  is  this  moderation  that  they 
enjoin  upon  us  ?  You  will  never  hear  such  men  enjoining  moderation 
where  it  is  bargain.  You  will  never  hear  men,  when  talking  to  their 
children  about  seeking  worldly  gain,  say  to  them,  "Let  your  modera- 
tion be  known."  It  is  when  the  child  is  so  deshous  of  going  to  meet- 
ing, and  is  so  much  interested  in  this  or  that  charitable  enterprise,  and 
is  so  addicted  to  prayer,  and  so  loves  the  assembly  of  God's  people,  and 
is  so  intensely  kindled  with  feeling,  that  they  almost  fear,  as  they  say, 
for  his  reason,  and  tell  him,  "  Let  your  moderation  be  known."  If  that 
same  child,  grown  older,  or  some  other  youth,  under  evU  counsel,  be- 
comes vehemently  addicted  to  business,  every  day  filled  with  fiery  mo- 
tives for  quick  gains,  does  the  father  ever  say  to  him,  "Let  your  moder- 
ation be  known  f  Never.  On  the  contraiy,  he  looks  upon  him  with 
undisguised  admiration.  He  can  scarcely  keep  from  spoiling  him  with 
flattery.  And  he  says,  "  If  his  life  is  spared,  he  has  the  making  of  a 
man  in  him."  Every  feeling  and  impulse  in  that  child  is  worldly.  He 
is  full  of  gi-eed  for  gain.  He  is  intense  and  shai*p  in  his  secular  nature. 
But  there  is  no  counsel  of  moderation  from  the  father  now.  On  the 
other  hand,  let  one  become  intensely  interested  in  the  welfare  of  his 
fellows ;  let  him  night  and  day  ponder  as  to  how  men  shall  be  made 
better ;  let  him  give  up  his  comfort  for  the  sake  of  reclaiming  men  ;  let 
him  be  filled  ■with  "  psalms,  and  hymns,  and  spiritual  songs ;"  let  him 
give  himself  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  if  the  invisible  were  real,  and 
as  if  God  were  his,  and  men  are  alarmed,  and  say,  "  Let  your  moder- 
ation be  known." 

I  would  to  God  that  there  were  more  temptation  to  fanaticism  than 
there  is.  I  think  fanaticism  to  be  an  evil ;  but  it  is  an  evil  that  we  are 
not  very  liable  to.  Our  temptation  is  the  other  way.  And,  in  general^ 
it  seems  to  me  that  men  do  not  enough  mark  the  necessity  of  intense, 
fervent — continually  fervent  and  intense — religious  experience,  to  facil- 
itate their  courage  along  the  royal  road.  If  your  feelings  are  right,  do 
not  be  afraid  of  having  them  too  deep.  For,  while  the  passions,  while 
all  the  lower  feelings,  are  apt  to  wear  a  man  out  by  intensity,  it  is  one 
of  the  peciiliarities  of  the  moral  sentiments,  that  they  nourish  and  feed 
men.  Excitement  in  the  higher  realm  of  feeling  does  not  wear  men  out. 
Hope,  and  love,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost — men  can  go  on  feeding 
upon  these  experiences  day  in  and  day  out,  week  in  and  week  out,  year 
in  and  year  out.  It  is  the  passions  that  wear.  It  is  the  appetites  that 
grind  out  the  fibre  of  life. 


SPIRITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKS.  71 

Meanwhile,  many  who  are  well  commenced  in  the  Christian  life, 
many  whose  faces  are  rightly  set,  many  who  have  begun  to  walk  in  the 
royal  road,  fail  from  feebleness ;  from  a  want  of  intensity  of  Christian 
feeling. 

Read,  when  you  return  home,  to  see  whether  these  things  be  so. 
Read  particularly  the  closing  chapters  of  the  various  epistles  of  the 
apostles,  and  see  in  how  many  cases  you  will  find  the  necessity  for  in- 
tensity of  feeling  repeated,  and  emphasized  and  re-emphasized. 
^  I  remark  again,  as  one  of  the  hindrances  to  growth  in  Christian 
life,  lack  of  deep  and  continuous  devotion.  This  is  either  from  the 
want  of  a  sense  of  the  great  spirit-world  on  whose  border  we  live  per- 
petually, or  it  is  the  result  of  excessive  occupation,  over-occupation, 
which  crowds,  all  the  time,  and  prevents  one  from  ripening  in  a  true 
Christian  devotion.  There  is  an  utter  liberty  granted  to  everybody  in 
respect  to  his  mode  of  devotion  ;  but  there  is  no  liberty  as  to  whether 
he  shall  or  shall  not  be  devout,  and  worship  from  day-to-day.  A  flower 
might  just  as  well  attempt  to  get  along  in  summer  without  the  dew 
that  falls  upon  it,  as  a  Christian  attempt  to  live  without  daily  commun- 
ion with  God.  An  eagle  that  cannot  fly ;  a  nightingale  that  cannot 
sing  ;  a  vine  that  cannot  bear  grapes  ;  a  flower  that  cannot  blossom — 
that  is  a  heart  that  does  not  pray,  and  does  not  love  to  pray. 

Why  is  it  that  there  are  so  many  whose  prayers  are  formal ;  whose 
devotion  is  a  duty,  rather  than  an  attraction,  and  a  bewitching  attraction 
at  that  ?  It  is  very  largely,  I  think,  because  men  know  God  rather 
than  Christ.  T  do  not  mean  that  our  prayers  may  not  sometimes  ascend 
unto  God.  I  do  not  say  that  veneration  may  not  seek  for  those  pecul- 
iai'  developments  of  the  divine  nature  which  come  to  us  through  the 
eternal  Father.  But  that  for  which  the  heart  is  hungry  is  companion- 
ship ;  and  our  companionship  is  to  be  with  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  and 
our  devotions  will  tend  to  become  tender,  and  familiar,  and  nourishing, 
and  companionable,  if  we  are  wonted  to  commune  with  Christ. 

What  is  devotion  ?  What  is  worship  ?  If  the  young  artist  stands 
in  the  presence  of  his  mastei*,  asking  him  of  everything  that  pertains 
to  the  art  which  is  common  to  them,  recognizing  the  superiority  of 
that  artist  master,  revering  him,  and  yet  communing  with  him  face  to 
face,  that  is  what  we  call  devotion  when  the  soul  does  it  to  God.  This 
.  the  soul  may  do  toward  the  Father,  if  it  is  drawn  thither.  It  may  do 
this  toward  the  Holy  Sphit,  if  it  is  drawn  in  that  direction,  as  some  ideal 
natm-es — the  mystics — are.  It  may  do  it  toward  the  l^ord  Jesus  Christ, 
if  it  needs  the  embodiment  of  God  manifest  in  the  flesh.  Whoever 
di-aws  near  to  God  in  the  spirit  of  sincere,  winning,  loving,  filial  con- 
versation, worships.  This  is  prayer,  this  is  communion,  whatever  may 
be  the  mode.     Some  shall  pray  by  the  lips  of  another ;  some  shall  pray 


72  SPIRITUAL  STUMBLIim-BLOCKS. 

by  their  own  lips ;  some  shall  pray  in  silence — without  uttered  thoughts; 
some  shall  pray  at  stated  seasons  ;  some  shall  pray  only  in  cu-cumstan- 
ces  that  inspu-e  peculiar  feeling ;  some  shall  pray  by  written  forms  ; 
and  some  without  them.  The  range  is  large.  The  liberty  is  absolute. 
That  which  your  experience  teaches  you  to  be  best,  you  have  a  right 
to.  But  one  thing  is  to  be  common.  We  are  to  pray.  We  are  to 
abound  in  prayer. 

Why  is  it,  then,  that  there  is  so  little  of  it  ?  Why  is  it  that  those 
who  have  the  privilege,  and  who  have  learned  the  language  of  prayer, 
so  seldom  or  so  ineffectually  pray  ?  My  own  irapi-ession  is  that  no  per- 
son prays  to  effect  who  does  not  pray  till  the  heart  and  the  imagina- 
tion are  touched.  It  is  not  until  some  such  effect  is  produced  upon  us, 
that  we  really  do  pray.  So  short  a  time  frequently  is  set  apart  for 
prayer,  and  so  unprepared  do  men  come  into  the  presence  of  God,  that 
by  the  time  they  have  finished  then-  devotions,  they  have  scarcely  be- 
come conscious  of  the  reality  of  spiritual  things.  They  leave  off  just 
when  they  should  have  begun.  But  till  we  feel  the  power  of  the  world 
to  come ;  till  we  feel  that  this  suffocating  and  narrowing  horizon  has 
begun  to  open  itself,  and  stretch  out  its  circles,  and  that  there  is  the 
touch  of  the  infinite  coming  in  upon  the  soul ;  till  we  begin  to  feel  that 
we  do  see  Him  who  is  invisible — till  these  things  take  place,  prayer  is 
wasted.  The  most  of  that  which  is  called  family  prayer,  and  prayer 
in  the  closet,  is,  I  fear,  only  the  husk  of  prayer,  and  not  the  true  ker- 
nel, and  does  not  feed  the  soul. 

The  want  of  devotion  make^  every  effort  at  Christian  life  a  burden. 
With  devoutness,  with  the  fiery  elevations  which  co«ie  from  devotion, 
with  the  realization  of  the  gj'«at  spiritual  realm  above  us  and  around 
about  us,  a  thousand  things  become  easy.  •  The  heart  that  loves  God, 
and  goes  to  him  in  prayer  finds  things  to  be  light  which  others  find  to 
be  heavy.  Duties  are  no  longer  duties,  but  they  become  volitions ;  and 
men  do  automatically  what  aforetime  they  did,  if  at  all,  imperfectly,  by 
force.  And  there  c»ji  be  no  eminent  development  of  Christian  life 
without  this.      It  isi  the  breath  of  the  soul. 

This  takes  hold,  naturally,  of  another  prominent  need — namely,  the 
abiding  sense,  in  the  Christian  life,  of  God's  presence.  I  mean  by  this, 
the  art  of  carrying  the  suggestion  of  God  through  the  realm  of  sense 
and  secularity.  There  be  many  who  seek  their  God  in  the  closet. 
There  should  he  be  sought,  and  there  should  he  be  found  ;  but  no  per- 
son can  live  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  Christian  faith  who  cannot  carry 
God's  conscious  presence  with  him  into  the  world,  into  his  business, 
into  his  pleasures,  eveiywhere.  It  is  said  of  one  of  old,  "  He  walked 
with  God."  That  is,  he  lived  with  him.  It  is  said  of  Moses,  *'  He 
endui'ed  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible."     That  is  the  philosophical  so- 


SPIBITVAL  STUMBLING  BLOCKS.  73 

lution  of  his  wonderful  success.  It  is  said,  "  The  pure  in  heart  shall 
see  God."  It  is  said,  "  He  that  abideth  in  me,  and  I  in  him,  the  same 
bringeth  forth  much  fruit " — he  that  abideth  in  me  and  Jin  Mm. 

There  is  a  training  by  which  eveiy  object  of  nature  almost,  and 
every  evolution  in  society,  will  suggest  the  presence  of  God.    It  seems 
to  me  that  men  who  invent  symbols  by  which  to  suggest  moral  quali- 
ties and  moral  facts,  are  like  persons  who,  by  the  side  of  the  ocean, 
attempt  to  manufacture  water  to  supply  it.     The  great  physical  globe 
itself  is  one  majestic  system  of  symbolism  indicating  moral  truths. 
The  human  mind  is  so  formed  in  adjustment  with  the  great  physical, 
natural  world,  that  if  we  are  right  with  God,  and  rightly  trained,  every 
object  in  nature  becomes  suggestive  of  some  moral  quality,  or  some 
phenomenon  in  Christian  life,  or  some  spiritual  truth  or  being.     What 
is  there  that  has  not  been  appropriated  and  sanctified  ?     The  moun- 
tains ;  the  cedars  on  them ;  the  clouds  above  them ;  the  bu'ds  in  them ; 
the  fields  below  them  ;  the  brooks  that  flow  from  them ;  the  rocks  that 
compose  them ;  the  shadows  which  they  cast ;  the  refuge  which  they 
lire  in  times  of  trouble  and  war ;  all  events  in  the  farming  life ;  all  pro- 
cesses in  the  industrial  life  of  civilized  nations ;  the  sea ;  the  summer ; 
tde  winter;  the  house;  the  magistrate;  the  judge;  the  father;  the  ani- 
Anals  upon  the  earth,  and  the  fowls  of  the  an- ;  whatever  there  is  all 
through   nature — these   things  God   has   employed  to   convey  to  us 
«ome  suggestion  of  the  divine  presence,  and  of  divine  truth.     And  no 
man  cati  dwell  in  the  conscious  presence  of  God  who  has  not  the  art 
of  havmg  the  sense  of  God  brought  into  him  by  some  of  the  continually 
occurring  events  of  life,  or  by  some  of  the  ever-existing  realities  of  the 
physical  voild.     He  that  can  look  up  into  the  heaven  at  midday,  and 
dwell  long,  and  yet  return  his  thoughts  whence  they  came,  without 
once  having  ieli  that  God  was  there — I  pity  him.     He  that  can  look 
into  the  darkness  of  the  night,  and  come  back  again  to  the  light  of  his-. 
own  countenance,  and  not  have  found  God  there — I  pity  him.     He' 
that  can  sit  down  upon  a  bank  on  which  the  sun  shines  moderately  in. 
the  spring  and  watch  the  roots,  and  young  insects,  and  all  that  nature 
is  doing  there,  and  not  have  one  single  thought  of  God — I  pity  him. 
He  that  can  hear  the  sounds  of  the  night,  the  voices  of  the  sea,  or  feel 
the  stillness  ;  he  that  can  look  upon  the  face  of  a  friend ;  he  that  can 
witness  a  marriage  feast,  or  stand  in  the  marble  presence  of  death ;  he 
that  can  go  anywhere,  and  not  have  the  shadow  of  the  eternal  Throne 
cast  upon  him — I  pity  him.     He  that  has  to  hunt  for  his  God,  and 
shuts  his  God  up  in  a  closet,  and  keeps  a  lock  and  key  on  him,  and 
goes  there  to  find  him — I  pity  him.     My  God  is  everywhere.     If  I  as- 
cend up  to  heaven,  he  is  there.     If  I  go  down  and  make  my  b(!d  im 
hell,  he  is  there.     If  I  fly  east,  west,  or  any  whither,  he  is  there ;  ancJ 


74  SPIRITUAL  STUMBLma-BLOCKS. 

lie  only  can  be  considered  a  growing  Christian  who  has  the  art  of  car- 
rying him  everywhere. 
•y      Another  hindrance  which  men  find  on  the  road  of  progress  in  their 
Christian  life,  is  theii-  ignorance  as  to  the  effect  of  outward  activity  in 
developing  inward  fervor,  and  the  effect  of  inward  fervor  in  developing 
outward  activity — as  to  the  effect  of  the  reciprocal  action  of  the  inward 
and  the  outward  life.     Men  are  accustomed  to  separate  these  qualities, 
which  never  should  be  disjoined.     We  ought  to  have  strong  feeling, 
and  strong  feeling  ought  always  to  take  on  the  form  of  activity.  Noth- 
ing is  more  unwholesome  than  strong  feeling  which  gives  itself  no  em- 
bodiment    That  is  the  secret  of  the  mischief  which  is  done  by  fiction. , 
"Works  of  fiction  are  just  as  wholesome  as  anything  else,  if  they  are 
read  wholesomely.     But  there  is  a  principle  which  few  understand — 
namely,  that  it  is  never  healthy  to  excite  strong  emotions  unless  you 
give  them  a  chance  to  commute  themselves  into  deeds.     All  intense 
feeling  ought  to  have  the  liberty  of  taking  on  some  outward  expres- 
sion.    If  you  excite  a  feeling,  and  deny  the  expression  of  it,  it  acts  in- 
wardly, and  wastes  and  corrupts   paralyzing  the  nerve  out  of  which 
it  has  sprung.     IS,  therefore,  you  read  of  heroic  deeds,  and  your  eye  is 
suffused,  and  you  shut  up  the  book,  and  go  back  to  the  vulgarity  of 
your  every-day  life  without  giving  any  other  expression  to  this  heroic 
excitement,  it  by-and-by  lowers  essentially  the  whole  tone  of  capability 
in  the  soul.     Whoever  has  pity,  should  do  something  to  manifest  pity. 
Whoever  has  love,  should  do  something  to  show  love.    Commute  high 
feeling  into  some  form  of  action,  and  then  it  both  blesses  others  and 
nourishes  you ;  but  mere  emotion,  without  expression,  is  bad.     And  it 
is  just  as  bad  in  the  closet  of  the  mystic  as  it  is  over  the  novel.     There 
is  many  and  many  an  unwritten  novel.     There  is  many  and  many  a 
person  to  whom  God  gave  the  pow  er  of  motive,  and  the  production  of 
feeling,  and  who  has  given  himself  up  to  what  is  called  meditation,  or 
liolding  one's  self  outside  of  life.     All  the  power  of  his  reason  and  im- 
;agination  fill  his  soal  full  of  beautiful  thoughts  and  sweet  feelings, 
but  they  remain  thoughts  and  feelings,  and  never  take  on  any  other 
form  of  activity.     And  that  is  not  well.     It  is  one  reason  why  persons 
are  no  better  in  monks'  cells  than  out  of  them,  or  in  caves  than  in 
houses.     Simple  meditations  and  fancies  are  not  good  for  the  soul,  ex- 
cept as  jv  change  for  a  short  time.     The  law  of  life  is.  Feeling  ex- 
pressed— feeling  put  into  some  form  of  activity  befitting  that  feeling. 
I^  therefore,  in  your  Christian  experience,  you  worship  God,  if  you 
love  Christ,  and  if  you  would  enter  into  the  mysteiy  of  Christ's  dying 
and  atoning  work,  you  must,  when  the  feeling  rises  up,  attempt  to  do 
the  thing  which  the  feeling  itself  indicates.     You  must  become  Christ 
tto  others  in  that  real  sense  which  was  implied  in  the  words  of  the 


SPIRITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKS.  75 

Saviour,  when  lie  told  the  disciples  that  if  he,  their  Lord  and  Master, 
had  washed  thek  feet,  they  also  ought  to  wash  one  another's  feet.  And 
so  we  commute  into  some  form  of  positive  activity  whatever  Christian 
experience  or  feeling  we  desire  to  have  in  the  soul  fresh,  continuous, 
and  harmless.  I  have  known  many  and  many  a  person  that  became 
veiy  religiously  selfish.  I  have  known  many  and  many  a  person  that 
became  so  in  sympathy  with  God,  and  spirituality,  and  ideality,  that 
he  had  almost  no  sympathy  with  things  as  they  actually  are ;  that  he 
cared  very  little  to  leaven  life,  and  to  benefit  life. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  just  as  important  that  actions  should 
culminate  in  emotions,  as  that  emotions  should  culminate  in  actions. 
It  is  not  enough  that  a  man  should  have  a  mere  pei'petual  machine 
life.  A  man  may  be  active  in  the  Christian  cause ;  he  may  disseminate 
tracts  ;  he  may  attend  meetings,  and  speak ;  he  may  organize,  and 
work ;  he  may  do  a  great  deal  of  good  in  vaiious  ways ;  and  yet  he  may 
be  imperfect  in  this,  that  his  own  soul  is  gi'owing  lean.  He  may  be- 
come a  mere  factor  in  the  spiritual  realm. 

Both  of  these  things  should  play  into  each  other.  Men  should  be 
active  that  they  may  be  emotive;  and  they  should  be  emotive,  that 
emotion  may  work  into  activity.  And  it  is  the  want  of  this  reciprocal 
influence  of  activity  and  emotion  working  together,  that  hinders  many 
persons  from  rising  into  the  higher  moods  of  Christian  life. 
A  I  may  remark,  again,  that  a  very  common  hindrance  to  Christian 
Hevelopment  is  the  attempt  of  men  to  perform  their  Christian  work 
outside  of  then-  ajjpropriate  spheres.  There  are  a  great  many  who  feel 
that  that  is  Christian  work  which  is  diflferent  from  their  common  every- 
day duty.  There  may  be  something  more  than  every-day  duty  which 
goes  to  constitute  the  whole  of  our  Christian  life — there  ought  to  be; 
but,  after  all,  every  man's  first  duty  as  a  Christian  is  in  the  calling  in 
which  God's  providence  has  placed  him.  We  are  taught,  and  we  feel, 
that  our  position  in  life  is  the  result,  not  of  accident  or  chance,  but  of 
the  divine  ordering.  And  whether  God  has  ordered  you  to  stand  in 
the  household  or  out  of  it,  in  the  mine  or  on  the  ship,  in  the  store  or  in 
the  office,  on  the  farm  or  in  the  shop,  wherever  he  has  placed  you,  there 
is  your  first  duty.  Your  first  duty  is  to  subdue  that  business  in  which 
you  are  engaged,  to  the  uses  of  religion.  What  I  mean  is,  that  it  is 
incumbent  on  every  man  to  conduct  his  business  so  that  it  shall  be  a 
means  of  grace ;  so  that  he  shall  not  have  to  leave  his  calUng  for  the 
sake  of  his  religion,  or  to  get  a  chance  to  be  religious,  but  shall  be 
religious  by  his  calling,  and  through  it.  That  is  the  Bible  teaching. 
And  it  is  strictly  illustrated  by  the  apostle,  in  his  reasoning,  in  many 
places.  1  will  cite  but  one  passage — that  in  the  seventh  chapter  of  1st 
Corinthians,  where  he  says, 


76  SPIRITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKS. 

"  Let  every  man  abide  in  the  same  calling  wherein  he  was  called.  Art  thou  called 
being  a  servant?  care  not  for  it;  but  if  thou  mayest  be  made  free,  use  it,  rather." 

There  you  find,  in  that  verse,  the  philosophy  of  all  those  questions 
that  are  struggling  for  settlement  to-day.  The  question  of  woman's 
right  to  speak  ;  the  question  of  the  subject's  duty  to  his  sovereign ;  the 
question  of  democracy — all  these  questions  ai'e  summed  up  in  that  one 
verse.  The  apostle  gave  du-ection  for  Christian  conduct  in  regard  to 
the  state  of  society  which  existed.  He  did  not  touch  the  question  as  to 
whether  they  might  by  appropriate  agitation  change  that  state  of 
society.  He  simply  argued,  all  the  way  through,  on  this  basis:  As 
things  now  are,  such  and  such  is  your  duty.  He  left  open  the  ques- 
tion. What  will  your  duty  he  when  things  have  been  changed  by  de- 
velopment f  And  in  regard  to  servants  and  slaves,  his  declaration  is, 
,"Ai"e  you  called,  being  a  slave?  Do  not  think  that  Christianity  re- 
quires you  instantly  to  break  your  bonds.  That  is  not  your  duty. 
Emancipation  is  not  the  first  fruit  and  result  of  being  called.  Are  you 
called  so  %  do  not  care  for  it.  There  is  room  enough,  and  there  are 
things  enough,  in  your  state  as  a  slave,  by  which  you  can  glorify  God, 
and  set  an  example  before  men." 

"  Art  thou  called,  being  a  servant  ?  care  not  for  it;  but  if  thou  mayest  be  made 
free,  use  it,  rather." 

In  other  words,  prefer  it.  Still,  it  is  not  indispensable  that  a  man 
should  be  free.  One  may  be  a  slave,  and  yet  be  a  Christian,  and  wor- 
ship God.  And  by  his  example,  by  his  heroism,  he  can  make  all  men 
know  the  power  of  Christ  upon  the  human  soul. 

"  For  he  that  is  called  in  the  Lord,  being  a  servant,  is  the  Lord's  freeman  [if  he  is 
not  his  master's] ;  likewise,  also,  he  that  is  called,  being  free,  is  Christ's  servant." 

Here  is  a  paradox.     It  works  both  ways. 

"  Ye  are  bought  with  a  price;  be  not  ye  the  servants  of  men.  Brethren,  let  every 
man,  wherein  he  is  called,  therein  abide  with  God." 

This,  which  was  argued  here  in  respect  to  just  one  relation,  has 
been  argued  above  in  regard  to  the  relation  of  husband  and  wife,  where 
one  is  heathen  and  the  other  is  Christian.  The  general  principle  laid 
down,  is,  that  our  calling,  our  business,  our  relationships  one  to  another 
in  which  true  religion  finds  us,  we  are  to  accept.  We  are,  as  it  were, 
to  permeate  our  avocation  and  om*  relations  with  the  Christian  spirit  in 
Buch  a  way  that  our  daily  duty  shall  be  itself  a  means  of  grace. 

I  think  every  physician  should  find  in  his  duty  as  a  physician  the 
means  both  for  nourishing  his  own  body,  and  for  doing  good  to  his 
fellow  men.  I  think  that  every  lawyer  should  not  be  obliged  to  go  out 
of  his  office  and  turn  the  key  in  order  to"  find  his  God.  He  should 
carry  himself  in  his  profession  as  a  minister  of  justice  and  peace;  and 
instead  of  finding  him  quarreling  and  wrangling,  we  should  find  him 
administering  his  daily  trust  and  duty  with  the  feeling  that  he  is  serv- 
ing both  God  and  man,  and  that  he  is  made  more  fit  for  secret  commun- 


SPIMITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKa.  7T 

ion  by  the  very  work  which  he  is  performing  all  day  long.  I  think 
every  merchant  and  banker  ought  to  find  in  his  daily  avocation  that 
which  nourishes  his  conscience,  his  reason,  his  spiritual  forces.  I  think 
every  woman  should  find  in  the  cares  of  the  household  that  which 
should  be  an  almoner  of  piety  to  her.  Every  child  should  find  himself 
lifted  up  and  made  better  by  his  association  with  children.  Everybody, 
going  to  school,  should  find  in  his  duty  as  a  scholar — ^in  his  duty  to  his 
class,  to  his  master,  and  to  the  whole  school — not  only  the  cultivation 
of  his  intellectual  powers,  but  also  food  for  his  religious  life. 

Whatever  your  state  may  be,  whether  you  are  in  a  printer's  loft  or 
a  collier's  dark  cave  ;  wherever  your  lot  may  be  cast,  your  first  duty  is 
to  subdue  your  present  business.  When  I  hear  men  saying,  "  I  can- 
not be  a  Christian  in  my  situation,"  I  say,  "  Probably  you  would  not 
be  one  in  any  situation."  When  I  hear  men  saying,  "  It  is  impossible 
for  me  to  be  a  Christian  where  I  am,"  I  say,  "You  are  discontented 
where  you  are,  and  it  is  not  likely  that  you  would  be  contented  any- 
where." 

Wherever  you  are,  there  begin  the  battle  ;  there  subdue  everything 
that  stands  in  conflict  with  the  law  of  conscience,  and  the  law  of  love, 
and  the  law  of  purity,  and  the  law  of  truth.  Begin  the  fight  wherever 
God  sounds  the  trumpet,  and  he  will  give  you  grace  that  as  your  day  is, 
so  your  strength  shall  be.  But  until  we  cease  dividing  our  life  into  two 
parts — secular  and  religious — we  never  shall  be  very  eminent  and  con- 
sistent as  Christians ;  we  never  shall  make  any  very  great  progress  in 
the  Christian  life.  Men  are  accustomed  to  think  that  then*  Bible  is  cut 
into  two  grand  divisions — ^the  Old  Testament  and  the  New.  They 
think  that  the  Old  Testament  is  a  pretty  wild  book  ;  that  there  is  a 
good  deal  of  worldly  matter  in  it ;  that  in  Old  Testament  times  men 
were  allowed  a  range,  and  did  things,  which  would  not  be  tolerated  for 
a  moment  in  the  New  Testament.  That  is  to  say,  it  is  a  book  of  the 
early  growth  of  the  race,  and  it  discloses  to  us  both  what  was  the  aver- 
age attainment  of  God's  people  during  the  period  which  it  embraces, 
and  also  what  was  the  relative  instruction  required  by  that  stage  in  the 
development  of  the  human  family.  But  men  believe  that  it  is  a  book 
of  wild,  and  almost  savage  liberty.  The  New  Testament  they  believe 
to  be  a  book  of  piety  and  far  more  grace  and  spirituality.  And  they 
divide  their  lives  just  so.  They  have  the  old  man  and  the  new  man, 
in  place  of  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New  Testament.  The  old  man 
does  all  the  wickedness,  and  the  new  man  all  the  piety.  And  so  they 
have  a  religion  that  they  try  to  take  care  of.  During  family  prayers, 
and  on  Sundays,  and  on  festivals  through  the  year,  they  serve  the  new 
man  ;  but  all  the  rest  of  the  time  they  let  the  old  man  have  his  way. 
You  must  slay  the  old  man,  and  you  must  have  a  new  man  in  Christ 


78  SPIRITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKS. 

Jesus — and  that  always  and  everywhere — or  you  cannot  grow  in  grace 
and  in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ. 

There  are  many  who,  although  they  may  not  fail  in  these  respects, 
fail  in  an  unexpected  du-ection — I  mean  by  excess  of  things  right.  I 
know  many  persons  who  are  in  right  courses,  and  have  substantially 
right  views,  but  who  go  beyond  all  prudence  and  all  bounds  of  discre- 
tion in  the  use  of  themselves.  I  know  many  women  who,  in  the  family, 
and  in  the  school,  every  day  exert  themselves  a  half  more  than  they 
have  any  right  to.  They  give  rise  to  swarms  of  morbid  feelings 
which  they  always  lay  to  the  devil's  charge,  but  which  God  always  sets 
down  to  then*  own  account.  They  exhaust  themselves  by  an  industry 
so  far  beyond  then-  own  capital  and  their  own  endowment  of  strength, 
that  they  are  perpetually  held  back  and  hindered.  They  are  hurt  in 
then*  Christian  life  by  excess. 

The  same  thing  is  true  out  of  the  family  and  out  of  the  school — in 
business.  Many  and  many  a  man  does  more  work  in  one  day  than  he 
has  a  right  to  put  into  three.  Many  a  man  ,works  so  that  he  breaks 
the  law  of  God  in  almost  every  single  point.  Excess  of  enterprise  and 
industry  is  a  national  sin  with  us. 

Now,  I  hold  that  there  are  special  emergencies  in  man's  life  when 
he  has  a  right  to  draw  on  his  capital.  If  there  is  sickness  in  the  house- 
hold, and  you  are  the  only  well  one  there,  it  is  not  a  time  for  you  to 
talk  about  health.  There  are  certain  things  that  must  be  done,  and 
you  must  do  them.  It  is  right,  in  times  of  great  peril,  when  the  ship 
may  be  foundered,  or  in  times  of  battle,  or  in  other  emergencies  in 
men's  histories,  when  they  are  not  to  hesitate  to  draw  on  their  resour- 
ces. But  these  are  exceptional  cases.  The  ordinary  law  is,  that  no 
man  has  a  right  to  go  beyond  a  certain  amount  of  consumption  of  his 
excitability.  If  he  does,  there  comes  a  reaction,  with  all  its  morbid 
feelings,  its  temptations,  its  suggestions,  and  its  irritableness.  You  sac- 
rifice a  thousand  times  more  graces  of  the  spirit  by  ii'ritableness  which 
comes  as  the  result  of  over-exertion  and  inordinate  activity,  than  you 
can  gain  by  prayers  and  reading.  Great  men  like  Count  Cavour  in 
Italy,  Bismarck  in  renovated  Germany,  Bright  in  young  England,  and 
Lincoln  in  our  own  calendar — it  is  right  that  they  should  have  wasted 
the  very  fountains  of  life  to  bear  up  their  times.  A  great  work  God 
gave  them  to  do.  They  live  long  lives  who  live  much,  and  these  men 
lived  the  life  of  a  thousand  ordinary  men,  though  they  all  broke  them- 
selves down  by  excessive  taxation. 

But  that  is  not  the  law  of  the  private.  It  is  contraiy  to  the  duty 
of  the  mass  of  men.  And  yet,  there  is  many  and  many  a  man  in  this 
congregation  who  is  sinning  against  God  every  day  of  his  life  by  ex- 
cessive industry.      There  is  many  a  man  and  many  a  woman  here  who 


SPIRITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKS.  79 

is  treating  God's  laws  in  nature,  and  breaking  them  in  society,  and 
breaking  them  in  social  relations,  by  an  unwitting  exhaustion  through 
excessive  activity. 

As  long  as  people  say,  "  I  cannot  help  it,"  they  will  not  help  it 
Cannot  help,  although  it  is  an  extreme  excuse  and  remedy,  is  a  very 
dangerous  one. 

I  have  known  men  who  could  not  help  it.  I  have  expostulated 
with  men  on  the  subject  of  such  an  excessive  addiction  to  worldly  toil ; 
and  they  have  said  to  me,  "  My  affairs  are  peculiar,  and  they  are  in 
just  such  a  state  now  that  it  is  impossible  for  anybody  else  to  take 
charge  of  them.  I  must  cany  them  through."  But  within  a  week 
they  were  taken  down  with  bilious  fever,  and  could  not  get  oif  their 
bed.  And  yet,  then*  affiiirs  went  right  along  just  the  same  as  though 
they  had  been  able  to  attend  to  them.  I  have  never  seen  a  man  whose 
affaii's  could  not  get  along  when  he  was  sick  and  could  not  get  off  his 
bed.  The  affairs  of  such  a  man  may  limp,  they  may  creep,  but  they 
will  get  along.  There  is  one  thing  that  you  may  be  sure  of — that  you 
will  get  through  life,  and  that  your  affau-s  will  get  along,  in  one  way 
or  another ;  and  half  the  time  it  is  conceit,  as  much  as  it  is  conscience, 
that  makes  a  man  say,  "  I  must  keep  my  hands  on  the  reins,  or  things 
will  go  so  that  I  shall  defraud  and  injure  those  who  are  connected  with 
me  on  every  side."  Retrench.  Draw  in.  Be  less,  and  do  less.  Do 
better,  and  be  better  for  doing  better. 

There  is  many  a  man  who  does  not  suspect  it,  but  when  he  says, 
"  I  do  not  speak  in  meetings ;  I  have  had  no  great  experience ;  I  do  not 
wish  you  to  call  upon  me  to  pray ;  I  have  no  gifts  in  prayer,"  it  is  as 
if  I  were  to  take  a  sponge  full  of  water  and  diipping,  and  squeeze  it  till 
there  was  not  a  single  di-op  of  water  in  it,  and  then  ask  the  sponge,  "How 
do  you  feelf  and  it  should  say,  "Dry  and  arid.  There  is  no  moisture 
in  me."  No,  it  is  all  squeezed  out.  Here  art^  men  who  take  their  hearts, 
that  are  just  as  full  of  feeling  as  anybody  else's,  and  squeeze  them  so 
dry  that  there  is  not  a  di'op  left.  Business  has  got  it  all.  And  they 
come  to  meetings,  and  say,  "  I  have  no  experience  to  give.  There  is 
nothing  in  me."  Why  should  there  be  %  If  you  have  used  it  all  up 
for  this  world,  of  course  you  have  none  for  the  world  to  come. 
y  I  may  remark,  again,  upon  too  poioerful  companionship  as  one  of 

the  influences  which  impede  men  in  the  Christian  life.  There  is  a  very 
great  benefit  designed,  to  be  sure,  in  the  divine  economy  of  life  from 
companionship;  but  too  much  companionship  is  not  good.  Being  tooi 
much  in  company,  being  too  much  with  each  other,  being  with  toO' 
many  people,  is  not  good  for  those  who  would  be  Christians. 

Did  you  ever  know  the  difference  between  lumber  grown  in  an  opca 
field  and  lumber  grown  in  a  forest  ?     Ask  the  men  at  the  Navy  Yai'di 


80  SPIRITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKS. 

whether  they  prefer  pasture-gi'own  white  oak  or  white  oak  that  is  for- 
est-gi'own.  They  wUl  tell  you  that  they  prefer  three  times  over  the 
pastoi-e  tree,  that  has  had  the  wind  and  rain  strike  it  on  every  side,  and 
that,  with  its  wide-spreading  branches,  di-aws  to  itself  more  nutriment 
than  it  is  possible  for  the  forest  tree  to  get.  Such  a  tree  is  tougher, 
and  hardier,  and  better,  and  lasts  longer,  than  a  tree  in  the  middle  of 
the  forest,  that  cannot  send  out  any  side  branches,  and  derives  strength 
from  the  wind,  and  nourishment  from  the  rain. 

People  in  cities,  or  people  out  of  cities,  with  too  much  company,  are 
like  forest  trees — long  and  spindling,  so  that  nothing  but  the  top  ever 
gets  the  light ;  and  they  are  weak  from  top  to  bottom.  The  need  of  a 
certain  tough  individuality,  requu'es  that  a  man  should  set  himself  free 
from  over-addiction  to  companionship,  even  though  it  is  good.  The 
breath  of  men  in  a  crowded  room  is  not  healthy  for  you  to  breathe ; 
and  the  breath  of  many  souls  is  unwholesome.  Every  man  should  have 
a  chance  to  swing  his  arms  around  in  every  direction  without  hitting 
anybody.  You  ought  to  have  room  for  your  own  being.  The  packing 
of  men  together  destroys  that  individuality  in  which  is  aU  progress  and 
all  merit  as  before  God. 

This  stands  closely  connected  with  another  social  hindrance  to  the 
development  of  true  Christian  life,  and  that  is,  the  addiction  of  men  to 
pleasure.  I  mean,  not  indulgence  in  wasting  and  disallowable  pleasures, 
but  an  excessive  addiction  to  recreation  of  any  kind. 

The  fii'st  law  which  I  should  lay  down,  is  the  sovereign  right  of 
every  man  to  make  himself  happy,  and  to  be  happy,  in  due  measure. 
Not  that  happiness  is  the  ultimate  object  to  be  achieved.  Happiness  is 
the  concomitant  of  every  right  step  toward  the  true  end  of  living,  which 
is  a  noble  manhood  in  Christ  Jesus.  We  live  to  make  noble  men  and 
women  of  ourselves.  And  in  doing  that  we  have  a  right  to  enjoyment. 
For  enjoyment  flows  with  the  normal  activity  of  every  faculty  of  our 
nature.  But  no  person  has  a  right  to  any  pleasure,  no  matter  how  good 
or  innocent  it  may  be,  in  kind  or  in  degree,  beyond  that  which  makes 
him  a  stronger  and  a  better  man.  And  nobody  can  tell  that  so  well 
as  the  man  himself,  or  his  nearest  friends. 

Let  us  come  right  down  from  general  statements  to  the  questions 
which  are  agitated  among  you.  May  persons  play  cards  %  May  per- 
sons dance  ?  May  persons  go  to  the  theatre  ?  May  persons  go  to  the 
opera?  May  persons  go  to  promiscuous  parties  and  balls?  My  general 
reply  is,  that  whatever  thing  you  have  tried,  and  have  proved,  and 
shown  youi-self  to  be  superior  to,  in  your  religious  development,  so  that 
the  men  around  about  you  do  not  doubt  it,  you  have  a  right  to.  If 
you  make  such  an  impression  upon  all  whom  you  meet,  that  they  say 
'Of  you,  "  He  is  a  God-fearing  man ;  he  has  religion,"  then  you  have  a 


SPIRITUAL  STVMBLING-BLOCKS.  81 

right  to  pleasure,  though  it  may  come  through  these  adjuvants  or  in- 
struments— going  to  opera,  playing  cards,  and  the  like ;  and  any  par- 
ticular kind  that  you  may  ask  about  will  not  hurt  you.  But  if  you  are 
a  man  of  pleasure,  and  if  when  you  go  among  men  they  say  of  you, 
"He  has  no  savor  of  religion  about  him  ;  he  has  no  power  of  the  eter- 
nal world  on  him,"  then  yom*  pleasures  harm  you. 

It  is  the  flavor,  not  the  name,  that  sells  fruit.  If  I  take  an  apple 
and  I  am  told  that  it  is  a  wilding  or  a  seedling,  and  when  I  bite  it  is 
mellow,  full  of  juice,  and  full  of  sweetness  as  well  as  juice,  and  full  of 
spiciness  as  well  as  sweetness,  I  do  not  care  whether  it  grew  on  this 
tree,  or  that  tree,  or  the  other  tree,  I  pronounce  it  a  good  apple.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  it  be  a  Mela  Carta,  of  Italy,  and  it  is  hard  and  in- 
sipid, I  do  not  care  for  its  name  or  honored  growth :  if  it  is  a  poor 
apple,  it  is  a  poor  apple.  There  is  a  law  of  soil,  and  there  is  a  law  of 
growth  ;  but,  after  all,  by  the  fruit  shall  ye  know. 

If  a  man  comes  to  me  and  says,  "  I  have  a  right  to  hear  Booth's 
Hamlet,"  and  I  know  that  he  is  foremost  in  the  pray er- meetings,  and 
foremost  in  reclaiming  men,  and  foremost  in  works  of  self-denial  for  the 
good  of  others ;  if  I  know  that  when  I  go  into  his  presence  I  feel  re- 
buked for  my  worldly-mindedness  ;  if  I  know  that  he  has  a  nature  that 
lifts  him  higher  than  common  Christians,  it  is  not  for  me  to  question 
his  right  to  that  pleasure.  But  if  he  does  not  go  higher  than 
that  pleasure,  it  is  for  me  to  say  to  him,  "Your  pleasure  swamps 
you."  If  he  says,  "It  is  not  harmful  ^er  se,  and  it  does  not  hurt 
anybody."  I  say  to  him,  "I  do  not  care  whether  it  hurts  any 
body  per  se  or  not,  it  has  a  bad  eifect  on  you.  And  whether 
it  hurts  you  or  not,  is  to  be  found  out  by  looking  at  the  way  you  live, 
and  the  way  you  talk,  and  seeing  where  the  end  of  your  life  is,  and 
where  the  emphasis  of  your  spirit  is."  If  a  man  is  living  above  the 
woi-ld ;  if  the  tendency  of  his  nature  is  away  from  worldliness,  no- 
body will  criticise  his  indulgence  in  pleasure ;  but  if  he  indulges  in 
pleasure,  and  lacks  spirituality,  then  even  permissible  things  have  be- 
come harmful  to  him.  Here  is  the  law.  We  must  live  for  God,  and 
for  our  fellow  men  ;  we  must  have  a  heart  that  feeds  higher  than  mere 
self-indulgence  ;  and  if  pleasure  is  a  mere  minister  of  self-indulgence 
to  you,  you  are  to  disallow  it ;  but  if,  living  preeminently  in  the  Chris- 
tian life  you  find  that  you  can  take  pleasures  without  harm  to  yom-self, 
then  they  are  yours,  as  between  God  and  yourself. 

Well,  is  there  no  other  question  ?  Yes,  oh  yes,  there  is  another 
question.  What  is  that  ?  It  is  the  gi-eat  question  as  to  what  a  man 
may  do  with  his  rights.  Paul  takes  the  ground  that  every  man  must 
assert  his  personal  rights.  Now  the  question  is,  having  once  shown 
that  I  can  indulge  in  such  and  such  pleasures  without  any  harm  to  me, 


82  SPIRITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKS. 

and  with  some  benefit,  shall  I  go  on  and  indulge  in  them  without  any 
regard  to  the  effect  which  my  indulgence  may  have  on  others  ?  "  Oh 
no,"  says  Paul.  "  There  is  no  harm  in  your  eating  meat  dedicated  to 
an  idol,  but  if  your  brother  sees  you  do  it,  and,  misunderstanding  the 
whole  of  it,  is  led  conscientiously  into  wrong,  then  you  do  not  act  wise- 
ly or  kindly ;  for  you  use  yom*  right  to  break  down  his  conscience  and 
his  right. 

There  are  two  principles  in  regard  to  rights.  The  first  is  to  as- 
certain and  vindicate  them ;  and  the  next  is  to  subject  them  to  the 
law  of  love.  There  are  a  great  many  things  that  I  have  a  right  to, 
till  love  comes  and  says,  "  Will  you  not  forbear  them  for  the  sake  of 
others  ?"  I  have  a  right  to  eat  meat ;  but  for  me  to  do  it  under  ch- 
cumstances  such  that  my  whole  household  are  led  to  eat  it,  and  they 
are  thrown  into  a  fever,  is  wrong.  For  the  sake  of  keeping  my  chil- 
di'en  well,  I  would  abstam  from  eating  meat.  I  have  a  right  to  drink 
wine ;  but  if  I  found  that  my  di-inking  wine  would  lead  poorer  men  to 
di-ink  whiskey,  or  the  young  men  around  about  me  to  di'ink  wine, 
I  would  say  to  myself,  "  Shall  I  use  a  right  of  mine  in  such  a  way  as  to 
destroy  my  fellow  men  for  whom  Christ  died  ?  That  would  not  be 
acting  wisely  nor  well." 

There  are  a  great  many  persons  who  take  pleasures  to  excess — 
things  which  do  not  agree  with  their  stomachs ;  and  they  are  dyspeptic 
all  the  time  sim^jly  on  account  of  their  pleasures.  There  are  a  great 
many  persons  who  take  pleasures  which  disagree  with  them  because 
then"  effect  is  to  bring  them  into  conflict  with  then*  fellow  men  ;  and  so 
they  are  violating  the  law  of  love  in  their  natures.  And  in  both  ways 
pleasures  impede  then-  progress  in  the  Christian  life. 

Let  no  man,  therefore,  suj)pose  that  I  hold  that  pleasures  are  to  be 
disallowed.  I  am  the  son  of  a  King.  The  owner  of  the  universe  is  my 
Father.  He  owns  the  heavens  and  the  earth.  There  is  nothing  on  the 
face  of  the  broad  earth  that  he  has  not  made,  and  that  he  does  not 
own.  And  it  is  all  mine.  "  The  earth  is  the  Lord's,  and  the  fulness 
thereof;"  and  all  the  fulness  of  the  earth  is  mine.  But  it  is  my  law  as 
well  as  my  pleasure  to  use  all  things  in  such  a  way  that  they  shall  con- 
tribute to  the  welfare  of  my  fellow  men,  and  to  my  own  spiritual  eleva- 
tion, and  to  the  glory  of  God. 

But  that  is  not  enough.  You  have  not  settled  the  whole  question 
when  you  have  asked,  "  Is  the  thing  itself  right  1  Nor  have  you  set- 
tled it  when  you  have  asked,  ''  Is  it  right  for  me,  so  far  as  my  individ- 
ual profit  is  concerned?"  There  is  a  third  question,  namely,  "Can  I  do 
it  and  yet  discharge  all  the  duties  of  pity,  and  mercy,  and  helpfulness 
to  those  around  about  me? "  When  you  have  settled  this  question, 
"  Is  it  right  before  God  and  my  conscience,  and  is  it  benevolent  to 


SPIRITUAL  STUMBLmQ-BLOCKS.  83 

those  who  are  around  about  me  ?"  then  you  will  have  settled  the  whole 
matter,  and  not  till  then. 

There  are  a  great  many  persons  who  are  not  conscientious  about 
pleasures.  Some  do  not  take  enough,  and  some  take  a  great  deal  too 
many,  for  then-  own  good,  or  for  the  good  of  others. 

But  time  fails  me  to  press  and  probe  still  further  these  practical 
questions.  Every  man  must  find  out  his  own  hindrances  and  obstruc- 
tions in  the  road  which  he  has  to  travel.  He  may  receive  help  from 
the  admonitions  of  the  i:)ulpit,  and  from  the  councils  of  faithful  Christian 
friends ;  but  the  duty  of  searching  himself  is  incumbent  upon  every 
one.  We  are  bound  to  grow  in  grace.  If  we  do  not  grow,  we  are 
bound  to  know  the  reason  why. 

Christian  brethren,  are  you  fulfilling  this  duty  ?  Ai-e  you  moving 
forward  on  the  way  of  life  ?  Ai'e  you  further  along  in  the  Christian 
life  than  you  were  when  you  began  ?  Do  many  of  you  look  back  upon 
that  time  as  the  brightest  in  your  history  ?  Woe  to  that  man  who  finds 
the  brightest  experiences  of  his  Christian  life  in  the  very  beginning  of  it ! 
For,  although  there  are  joys  that  will  be  fondly  remembered  forever, 
there  ought  to  be  fruits  of  substantial  victories  in  later  life  that  shall 
quite  eclipse  in  depth  and  power  any  early  experiences.  It  is  a  shame 
to  say  that  the  whole  after  manhood  is  not  so  potential  for  serving 
God  as  the  nascent  state  of  Christian  experience.  Ai'e  you  living  in  a 
nearer  communion  with  God  ?  Do  you  have  a  better  understanding  of 
Christ?  Is  it  easier  for  you,  when  you  are  in  trouble,  to  lift  yourself 
up  above  it  ?  Is  it  easier  for  you,  when  you  are  in  care,  to  lift  your- 
self above  care?  Is  it  easier  for  you  to  stand  with  your  hand  on  the 
lion's  mane,  as  the  old  prophet  did  in  the  lion's  den,  and  yet  suifer  no 
harm  ?  Can  you  walk  in  the  fiery  furnace  ?  and  do  you  find  that  the 
form  of  the  Fourth  is  by  your  side  ?  Are  you  living  so  that  neither  sick- 
ness nor  health,  neither  adversity  nor  prosperity,  can  reach  up  to  touch 
your  settled  peace  ?  Is  your  life  hid  with  Christ  in  God  ?  And  are 
you  growing  in  these  du-ections  ?  If  you  are  not,  what  is  the  matter 
with  you?  Is  it  some  secret  sin?  Is  it  some  desirable  thuig  which 
you  know  of  in  your  afiau's  ?  Is  it  some  hatred  ?  Is  it  some  feud  ?  Is 
it  some  bitterness  ?  Is  it  some  revenge  ?  Is  it  some  cherished  selfish- 
ness ?  Is  it  some  neglect  ?  Are  you  living  in  the  full  light  of  God's 
countenance,  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  perfect  peace  in  Cluist  Jesus? 
If  you  are  not,  why  should  the  chUdi'en  of  the  King  go  mourning  all 
the  day  ?  And  why  is  it  that  you  are  living  so  far  behind  what  you 
ought  to  ?     Is  it  not  time  for  every  one  to  examine  and  ascertain  Avhy  ? 

For,  the  time  is  drawing  near,  to  many  of  us,  in  which  the  great- 
ness of  the  way  will  have  been  passed,  aiid  all  our  battles  will  have 
been  fought,  and  we  shall  approach  the  celestial  city,  and  Him  who 


84  SPIRITUAL  STUMBLmO-BLOCKS. 

dwells  therein.  And  then,  in  that  hour  of  royal  meeting,  to  have  been 
in  conflict,  and  to  have  gained  victories  through  suffering,  will  be  more 
to  us  than  to  have  empires  or  treasures  uncountable  in  our  hand. 
Remember  Him  who  bought  you  with  his  own  blood.  Remember 
Him  who  waits  for  you  in  heaven.  Think  of  them  who  have  gone 
before,  and  are  victorious  to-day.  And  lift  up  holy  hands  of  fresh  con- 
secration.    Begin  again,  and  fight  boldly  unto  the  end  of  life. 


BPIBITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKS,  85 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

We  bless  thee,  thou  Eternal  King,  manifest  to  us  both  in  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord,  and  by  the  Holy  Sjiirit  in  our  own  hearts,  and  in  our  own  experiences, 
that  thou  art  crowned  with  praises ;  that  there  is  a  land  where  there  is  no 
ciying ;  where  there  are  no  tears  and  no  sorrows.  There  is  a  land  which  is 
ripe ;  where  eternal  summer  dwells  without,  and  yet  more  within ;  and 
where  every  affection  blossoms,  and  exhales  the  fragrance  of  love  and  glad- 
ness. And  thou  art  walking  in  the  midst  of  thine  own  redeemed  ones,  and 
in  the  midst  of  those  who  have  kept  their  first  estate.  And  thou  art  forever 
to  them  the  Chief  among  ten  thousand,  and  altogether  lovely.  They  behold 
thee;  and  as  flowers  upon  which  the  sun  looks  cannot  but  open  and  grow 
beautiful,  so  thy  looking  upon  them  becomes  life  and  joy  and  gladness,  and 
they  begin  to  sing,  and  their  every  thought  is  praise,  and  their  very  life  is 
worship,  and  worship  is  love  and  joy. 

We  are  glad  that  above  the  storm,  and  above  the  sound  of  earthly  trou- 
bles, there  abides  this  land  of  sacred  peace.  Thither  have  flown  some  that 
sang  by  our  side.  There  are  some  whom  we  folded  and  taught  to  speak 
with  earthly  language.  There  rest  many  who  taught  our  hearts  to  love. 
There  are  the  chief  desired  ones.  And  we  are  glad  for  their  escape.  Nor  is 
the  world  altogether  poorer  for  their  going.  They  are  with  us  yet,  with 
more  power  than  when  they  were  bodily  present.  When  we  rise  to  our  bet- 
ter selves,  and  by  faith  can  discern  the  invisible,  we  are  not  separated  from 
them.  In  our  holiest  thoughts,  and  in  our  purest  affections,  we  are  more 
theirs  than  ever  we  were  in  the  infirmities  of  the  common  earthly  life.  They 
are  not  taken  from  us.  They  are  but  a  step  before  us.  It  is  their  voice 
which  we  hear  crying  out  perj^etually,  from  the  invisible  city,  Come,  come. 
And  we  are  coming.  We  are  coming  toward  them,  and  toward  thee  that 
hath  made  them  lovely.  Lord  Jesus.  By  faith  of  thee,  by  the  strong  draw- 
ing of  thy  love,  by  the  gracious  light  and  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
we  are  coming  to  that  higher  and  better  life.  Would  that  our  steps  were 
faster.  Would  that  we  might  begin  to  fly.  Yet  we  are  grateful  for  any 
movement.  We  are  grateful  that  we  have  learned  thee ;  that  our  face  is  set 
thither;  that  the  light  strikes  upon  our  countenance ;  that  we  behold  thee 
sometimes,  and  see  the  city  itself  afar  off',  as  pilgrims  behold  the  glimmer- 
ing city  which  they  have  not  nearly  reached;  that  we  are  in  sympathy  with 
them;  and  that  there  are  many  hours  in  which  we  can  stand  in  Zion  and  be- 
fore God,  with  the  Spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  and  enter  into  sym- 
pathy with  all  theii"  rejoicings  and  thoughts.  For  all  these  things  we 
thank  thee. 

And  now,  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  not  suffer  us,  by  reason  of  any  earthly 
and  remaining  desires,  to  bind  ourselves  fast.  Especially  permit  us  not  to 
set  up  for  ourselves  idols  anywhere  along  the  road.  Let  us  not  seek  ever  to 
build  tabernacles  in  which  to  worship  thee.  May  we  feel  that  we  are  stran- 
gers and  pilgrims  in  this  world.  Here  we  are  trained.  Here,  by  the  labor 
of  our  hands,  by  the  care  of  each  day,  by  the  lesson  of  the  sanctuary,  by 
the  duties  of  home,  by  the  inspiration  of  a  common  and  struggling  life, 
thou  art  educating  us  for  a  higher  manhood.  May  we  bear  our  part 
well.  May  we  not  seek  to  throw  off  our  burden  before  thy  will  is  made 
known  to  us.  May  we  not  desire  to  go  before  we  are  called.  May  we  be 
willing  to  abide  here,  although  it  is  better  to  be  with  Christ  than  to  be  in 
this  mortal  life.  And  may  we  be  willing  to  dwell,  if  need  be,  at  the  foun- 
dations, where  no  man  shall  see  us  work.  May  we  be  willing  to  work,  though 
we  see  the  work  of  others  bringing  the  admiration  and  praise  of  men,  while 
ours  is  hid.  May  we  be  willing,  for  Christ's  sake,  to  work  in  obscure  things, 
in  things  hidden,  in  things  which  men  will  never  know.  Oh !  that  Jesus 
might  be  to  us  so  near,  so  dear,  and  so  real,  that  all  our  work  of  life  should 
be  consciously  done  for  him.     Whether  we  serve  or  are  served,  whether  wa 


86  SPIRITUAL  STUMBLING-BLOCKS. 

are  in  high  places  or  low,  whether  we  are  in  joy  or  in  pain,  may  we  still  feel 
that  every  breath  and  every  endurance  in  life  is  an  oflFering  to  Jesus. 

And  so,  Lord,  since  thou  hast  suffered  for  us,  may  we  be  willing  to  suffer 
a  little  for  thee  and  for  ourselves.  Wert  thou  crowned  with  thorns — and 
shall  we  not  have  some  thorns  ?  Shall  we  not  drink  that  bitter  cup  which 
thou  didst  drink  ?  Shall  we  be  unwilling  to  be  children  of  pain,  that  we 
may  be  children  of  glory  ?  Eebuke,  we  beseech  of  thee,  our  faint-hearted- 
ness,  and  our  want  of  courage,  and  our  want  of  honor  toward  thee.  May 
we  be  willing,  we  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord  our  God  !  to  be  chastised  at  thy 
hands,  that  we  may  rise  from  servants,  and  become  sons,  and  become  wor- 
thy to  be  sons,  and  be  inspired  with  that  same  filial  love,  and  that  same 
sense  of  honor,  which  children  have  toward  honored  parents. 

TVe  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  those  who  are  beginning  to  seek  thee, 
and  to  find  their  life  in  thy  ways  and  commandments.  If  at  first  it  is  rough 
to  their  feet,  if  at  first  the  burden  is  heavy,  and  the  yoke  is  hard,  let  them 
not  be  discouraged.  May  they  remember  thy  promise,  that  the  burden 
shall  grow  light,  and  that  the  yoke  shall  become  easy.  And  we  pray  that 
their  faith  may  not  fail  them  imtil  they  prove  thy  word.  Turn  not  any 
backward,  nor  suffer  them  themselves  to  go  away.  To  whom  shall  they  go 
but  to  thee  ?  Where  is  there  such  patience,  where  is  there  such  love,  where 
is  there  such  provident  care,  where  is  there  such  example,  as  there  is  in 
thee  ?     And  if  they  turn  away  from  thee,  on  whom  shall  they  lean  ? 

Save  the  imperiled.  Rescue  the  tempted.  Strengthen  the  weak  that 
are  to  be  carried  into  captivity  unless  thou  dost  rescue  them. 

And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  fill  thine  own  people  with  some  of  that  com- 
passion, with  some  of  that  pity,which  thou  hast  felt  for  lost  men.  And  may 
they  never  be  weary  in  well-doing.  May  they  labor  on,  not  knowing  which 
shall  prosper,  this  or  that,  or  whether  both  alike  shall  fail. 

And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  those  who  labor  in  word  and  in 
doctrine.  Remember  our  schools.  Bless  the  teacher  and  the  taught. 
Bless  all  those  who  go'forth  to  preach  to  the  lowly  and  the  ignorant.  And 
we  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  that  those  who  are  merciful  may  themselves 
obtain  mercy. 

Wilt  thou  spread  the  tidings  of  salvation  through  Jesus  Christ  to  all  ; 
and  may  the  power  of  the  Saviour's  love  be  felt  by  all  hearts.  And  that 
glorious  day  which  has  lingered  too  long — may  it  at  last  begin  to  show  its 
bright  colors  on  the  mountain,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  begin  to  shine, 
and  all  the  earth  see  thy  salvation. 

We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  word  spoken.  We  be- 
seech of  thee  that  thou  wilt  send  it  home  to  every  understanding  conscience, 
and  to  every  heart.  ;May  we  all  live  in  a  glorious  discontent  with  ourselves, 
and  in  a  glorious  peace  with  thee ;  and  may  we  so  look  upon  our  sins,  and 
the  sinful  estate  of  our  hearts,  that  we  shall  turn  away  perforce,  and  find 
our  rest  in  thy  glorious  goodness,  and  in  thy  great  mercy,  and  in  thy  re- 
deemino'  love.  Lord  Jesus,  thou  hast  nourished  us.  Thou  hast  rebuked  us 
■by  thy  providences  and  chastisements.  Rebuke  us  still,  and  suffer  us  not  to 
settle  "down  into  such  captivity  of  indolence,  or  into  such  wrong  ways,  that 
we  shall  fail  at  last  to  see  thee  in  thy  heavenly  home.  Still  smite  us,  and 
disturb  us.  Still  stir  us  up  to  activity.  And  bring  us,  at  last,  when  life  is 
over,  and  all  its  conquests  are  won,  to  cast  our  crowns  at  thy  feet,  and 
say,  Not  unto  us,  not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name,  be  the  praise  for  ever 
and  ever.    Amen. 


V. 

Beauty. 


INVOCATION. 


Avril  10, 1870. 

B£  giacioiis  unto  us  this  morning,  0  Lord  onr  God!  and  unveil  thy 
faoe,  delivering  us  from  all  fear,  with  sweet  invitation  beckoning  us  to 
thyself,  that  in  thee  we  may  find  ourselves ;  that  we  may  find  our  God  to  be 
not  Him  whom  fear  hath  appointed,  nor  such  an  One  as  the  imagination 
conceives  diffused  abroad,  but  One  like  unto  ourselves,  whom  we  know  how 
to  love,  and  with  whom  all  our  powers  are  acquainted ;  that  we  may  take 
hold  upon  thee  with  joy  and  delight,  and  feel  that  God  is  the  Father,  that 
we  are  his  children,  and  that  we  are  one  with  Him.  So  bless  us,  we  pray 
thee,  this  morning,  in  the  service  of  delight.  On  this  day  of  rest,  give  our 
souls  peace.  On  this  day  when  all  things  are  ripening  and  putting  forth  their 
new  life,  grant  that  we,  too,  may  have  spring  dawn  upon  us,  and  that  our 
souls  may  rejoice  as  the  garden  of  the  Lord.  Bless  our  fellowship,  our 
friendship,  our  good  will,  our  cheerful  gladness.  Bless  all  the  services  of 
song,  the  eommimion  of  prayer,  the  word  of  instruction,  our  meditation, 
and  every  service  of  the  day.  We  ask  it  through  Christ  Jesus,  our  Kedeemer. 
Amcri,. 

5 


BEAUTY. 


"For  how  great  is  Lis  goodness,  and  how  great  is  his  beauty  I"— Zech.  IX.  17. 


The  prophet  is  speaking  of  the  Lord,  and  has  been  showing  hia 
wisdom  ;  his  overruling  providence ;  his  special  kindness  of  deliver- 
ance toward  the  people.  And  in  the  last  verse  of  the  chapter  he  breaks 
out,  "  How  great  is  his  goodness,  and  how  great  is  his  beauty !" 

One  by  one  the  various  traits  of  divine  excellence  came  before  the 
mind  of  the  prophet ;  and  at  last  he,  as  it  were,  generalized  them  ;  and 
the  whole  vision  struck  him  as  a  vision  of  extreme  beauty. 

This  is  not  a  singular  representation  of  the  Bible.  We  are  apt  to 
be  misled  by  the  fact  that  many  figures  which  are  applied  to  God  are 
figures  of  an  Oriental  monarch.  He  is  robed  in  state ;  he  is  repre- 
sented as  crowned  and  sceptered  ;  and  the  beauty  of  royalty  is  at- 
tributed to  God.  And  we  are  apt  to  suppose  that  as  this  is  boiTOwed 
imagery,  so  the  use  of  the  term  beauty  is  also  figurative,  metaphorical, 
and  that  the  attribution  of  beauty  as  we  usually  understand  that  term^ 
to  God,  is  unusual — perhaps  improper. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  wisdom  of  Gpd,  his  justice,  his  purity,  his 
truth,  his  love — all  of  these,  in  quality,  in  quantity  and  in  harmony,  form 
a  symmetric  whole,  which  deserves,  if  anything  deserves  it,  the  epithet 
beautiful,  and  meets  the  highest  conception  and  overreaches  the  high- 
est aspiration  which  the  human  heart  has  for  the  element  of  beauty. 

The  Church  of  God,  by  a  like  figure,  is  often  painted  as  a  queen  or 
a  beautiful  woman — a  woman  wise,  beauteous,  and  clothed  in  beautiful 
garments.  This  is  particularly  so  in  the  book  of  Canticles,  where  hu- 
man life  is  spiritualized,  and  the  divine  .character,  and  the  divine  ten- 
derness, and  the  divine  affiancing  to  the  human  soul,  are  set  forth 
through  that  bold  and  peculiarly  Oriental  mode — the  household  love. 
And  heaven,  as  it  is  represented  in  the  New  Testament,  is  represented 
upon  the  same  substantial  principle  that  is  employed  to  make  known 
to  us  the  Church  of  God,  and  God's  own  nature.  According  to  Scrip- 
|ture,  heaven  is  the  land  of  beauty.  Whatever  elements,  by  the  gen- 
eral consent  of  men,  represent  utter  joyfulness  and  perfect  beauty,  ai'e 
selected  and  put  together,  and  called  heaven. 

Priests  in  garments  of  praise,  with  precious  stones,  represented  to 

Sunday  Morning,  April  10,  1870.  Lesson:  Ephesians  II.,  1-13— III.,  1-21.  Hyunb  (Ply* 
mouth  Collection);  Kob.  216,  364,  655. 


88  BEAUTY. 

h    -^    -  _ 

the  age  the  highest  type  of  a  man,  and  they  are  transferred  to  the  heav- 
enly vision.  Of  all  places  that  the  Jew  knew  on  earth,  there  was  none 
for  situation  so  beautiful  as  Jerusalem,  and  nothing  so  beautiful  as  that 
city — "  the  joy,"  as  they  termed  it,  "  of  the  whole  earth."  And  heav- 
en was  called  "  The  New  Jerusalem."  And  in  Jerusalem  there  was 
nothing  that  struck  men  with  such  admiration  and  wonder  as  the  tem- 
ple, which  blazed  in  its  pristine  glory  of  silver  and  of  gold,  and  was 
carved  with  an  elaborateness  of  art  which  was  at  that  time  unknown 
anywhere  else.  Then  the  temple  was  the  very  center  of  theii-  concep- 
tion of  architectural  exquisiteness  ;  and  it  was  employed  to  help  them 
to  form  a  conception  of  the  heavenly  land. 

All  things  in  nature,  also,  were  gathered  up  ;  and  it  was  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  gathering  up  all  the  transcendent  elements  of  beauty  which  cre- 
ate joy  in  man,  that  the  heavenly  city  was  reconstructed,  and. that  it 
stands  painted  in  the  Word  of  God. 

Is  beauty,  then,  a  reality  in  the  higher  spiritual  life  ?  Is  there,  in 
the  inward,  invisible  and  truly  spuitual  life,  that  which  answers  to  our 
idea  of  sensuous  beauty  ?  Or  is  it  figurative  ?  Is  it  one  of  those  child- 
ish things  which  the  apostle  says  is  put  away  when  one  grows  up  ? 
No.  I  hold  that  beauty  is  first  spiritual,  and  afterwards  natural  and 
material.  I  hold  that  it  was  divine  ;  that  it  inhered  in  the  nature  of 
God,  and  the  nature  of  sjoiritual  existence  ;  and  that  we  call  the  out- 
ward and  physical  world  beautiful,  boiTOwing  the  term  from  the  higher 
sources  of  beauty,  instead  of,  as  men  are  accustomed  to  think,  calling 
spu'itual  things  beauteous,  and  borrowing  the  term  from  sensuous  pleas- 
ure. "  That  was  not  first  which  was  natural,"  says  the  apostle,  "  but 
that  which  was  spiritual."  That  is  not  highest  which  is  material,  but 
that  which  is  invisible.  And  there  is  more  and  more  real  beauty,  and 
less  and  less  figurative  and  decorative  beauty,  as  one  advances  towai'd 
the  spuitual  life. 

Let  us  examine  the  relation  of  beauty  to  moi*al  qualities. 

As  God  has  created  the  world,  beauty  is  not  a  kind  of  seasoning 
scattered  upon  the  weightier  realities.  Men  think  that  the  beauty  of 
this  natural  world  is  a  kind  of  decoration.  As  one  builds  a  house,  and 
then  puts  pictures  in  it,  which  are  not  really  necessary  to  the  well-being 
of  the  house  ;  as  one  spreads  a  table,  and  over  and  above  that  heartiness 
of  food  which  is  needed  to  supply  the  body  with  strength,  gives  some- 
thing for  the  eye,  sugaring  over  the  loaf,  and  tucking  in  flowers  here 
and  there — things  that  are  very  well,  but  things  that  are  not  food,  and 
might  be  dispensed  with ;  so  men  think  that  there  is  beauty,  to  be  sure, 
in  the  world,  but  that  it  is  incidenial  in  the  great  framewoik  of  things. 
The  substantial  verities  of  things  in  this  world,  men  think,  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  beauty.     But  I  aver  that  beauty  is  not  only  a  jjai-t  of 


BEAUTY.  89 

the  course  of  nature,  so  that  if  it  were  excluded  the  whole  structure 
would  be  changed  and  re-formed  to  a  new  ideal ;  that  it  is  not  merely 
a  frosting ;  but  that  all  things  in  the  great  scheme  of  evolution  and 
development  tend  towards  theu'  highest  estate  by  tending  towards 
beauty.  Ripeness  and  beauty  are  identical,  Perfectness  and  beauty 
are  identical.  Maturity,  whether  it  be  of  fruit,  or  flower,  or  what  not, 
works  by  stages  towards  beauty,  in  the  material  globe. 

So  that  beauty  is  not  an  accident.  Still  less  is  it  the  trimming 
which  God  gave  to  the  perfected  work.  It  is  the  divine  idea  of  a  mode 
of  creation.  It  inheres  in  the  structure  and  in  the  subtle  nature  of 
things.  God  so-made  the  world  that  when  organic  life  began  to  work 
towards  higher  and  higher  forms,  it  evinced  that  higher  tendency  by 
the  evolution  of  beauty.  It  is  a  kind  of  goal  toward  which  all  right 
things  are  tending.  It  is  in  nature  a  kind  of  signal  of  attainment.  So 
that  it  might  almost  be  said,  taking  it  on  the  great  cu'cle,  and  as  a 
generic  fact,  that  just  so  far  as  things  are  material  they  are  remote  from 
developed  perfection. 

As  the  human  mind  is  cultivated,  it  becomes  more  and  more  sensi- 
tive to  this  quality.  The  less  culture  men  have,  the  further  they  are 
from  the  admiration  of  beauty  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  less  comprehensive 
is  their  admiration.  The  uttermost  savage  admires  a  glittering  bead ; 
but  that  is  not  admuing  beauty.  As  men  gi'ow  cultivated,  every  sin- 
gle faculty  demands  beauty.  The  reason,  the  social  afiections,  the  moral 
sense,  the  whole  nature,  comes  more  and  more  under  the  esthetic ;  and 
even  the  ethic  clothes  itself  in  the  esthetic.  So  that  when  the  human 
mind  develops  and  grows  toward  its  perfection,  it  grows  toward  the 
sense  of  beauty. 

As  beauty  is  the  highest  thing  in  nature,  as  all  things  have  been 
seen  to  be  developed  in  the  direction  of  beauty,  and  as  the  chief,  the 
sovereign  fact  in  this  world  is  man,  so  man  himself  indicates  stUl  more 
signally  what  is  the  law  and  thought  of  God  in  the  creation  of  the 
world,  and  of  the  beings  for  whom  the  world  was  created. 

Perfection  in  matter  and  ripeness  of  mind,  then,  are  indicated  by 
the  tendency  to  develop,  or  the  actual  development  and  perfection,  of 
the  element  of  beauty. 

But  nioi-al  qualities  come  under  this  law,  just  as  much  as  physical 
qualities  do.  Fullness,  fineness,  and  harmony — there  is  the  formula. 
In  nature,  it  is  called  quantity,  symmetry ;  and  the  equivalent  of  this  in 
moral  elements,  \&  fullness,  fineness,  harmony.  And  this  makes  beauty 
in  anything  and  in  everything.  Whatever  elements  the  mind  produces 
when  it  acts  so  as  to  give  fullness  and  fineness  and  harmonious  propor- 
tions to  the  product,  are  beautiful.     That  is  to  say,  they  produce  the 


90  BEAUTY. 

sense  of  beauty  in  those  that  look  upon  them,  and  tend  universally  to 
do  it. 

Now,  not  only  are  right  things  commanded  all  through  the  Bible, 
but  you  shall  find,  upon  analysis,  that  though  the  Bible  does  not  use 
the  term  beauty  as  we  do,  it  is  not  enough  that  we  should  be  just,  or 
that  we  should  be  conscientious,  or  that  we  should  be  true,  or  that  we 
should  be  amiable,  or  that  we  should  be  benevolent.  There  is  to  be 
fullness  in  each  of  these  elements,  and  there  is  to  be  harmony  among 
all  of  them.  And  here  is  the  formula  fulfilled  which  goes  to  make 
6©cial  and  moral  afiections  beautiful. 

It  would  seem  enough  to  say  to  men,  "  Be  kind,  be  generous,  be 
benevolent ;"  but  no.  Let  love  he  without  dissimulation.  God  loves 
a  cheerful  giver.  Give  without  grudging  one  to  another.  These  are 
the  elements  that  go  to  make  beneficence ;  that  free  it  from  wrinkles  ; 
that  give  it  largeness  and  generosity. 

Men  think  of  humility  as  being  a  stoled  and  draped  nun,  clothed  in 
black,  and  downward  looking.  No ;  the  humility  of  the  Bible  is  not 
the  exaggerated  sense  of  a  man's  wretched  imperfection.  No  man  is 
humble  who  is  looking  down.  Humility  is  the  sense  of  such  ineffable 
excellence  that  when  a  man's  aspiration  looks  up,  and  he  compares 
what  he  is  Avith  what  he  would  be,  he  is  humble.  It  is  a  state  of  ap- 
preciation in  a  man  of  excellence,  and  an  ideal  of  an  excellence  beyond, 
sitting  in  judgment  on  his  relative  position,  that  makes  humility.  Hu- 
mility is  a  head-up  quality — not  a  dragging,  miserable,  mean  feeling. 
Many  men  have  mortified-pride,  and  caU  that  huinility.  Many  men 
have  the  blues,  and  call  them  humility.  Many  men  palm  off  all  the 
wi'etched  and  reactionary  feelings  of  their  nature,  and  call  them  humil- 
ity. Humility  is  one  of  the  noblest  and  one  of  the  most  resplendent 
of  all  the  experiences  of  the  soul.  When  every  part  of  a  man's  nature 
is  sensitive  and  apprehensive,  and  when  the  sense  of  character  and  of 
being  is  so  radiant  and  large  that  the  man  feels  his  own  relative  imper- 
fection, compared  with  that  which  he  now  perceives  to  be  possible — 
then  it  is  that  humility  is  born,  and  is  the  child  of  aspiration. 

So  of  conscience.  Conscience  is  to  be  di'aped  and  clothed  in  gen- 
tleness and  tenderness.  And  so  of  all  the  moral  excellences.  You 
will  find,  in  one  place  or  another,  in  the  New  Testament,  not  simply 
that  they  are  commanded,  but  that  they  are  commanded  in  certain 
modes  ;  that  they  are  to  be  exercised  in  certain  ways ;  that  on  the  one 
side  the  evils  to  which  they  are  liable  are  cautioned  against,  and  on 
the  other,  innocent,  admirable  qualities,  which  make  them  beautiful, 
are  enjoined.  You  will  find  in  the  New  Testament  commands  in  re- 
spect to  loving,  and  truthfulness,  and  generosity,  and  activity,  and  va- 
rious other  excellent  qualities;  and  you  will  find  that  they  are  all 


BEAUTY.  91 

enjoined  in  their  modes  as  well  as  in  themselves.  And  in  the  instruc- 
tion of  the  disciple,  there  is  as  much  anxiety  manifested  that  he  should 
be  beautiful  in  holiness,  as  that  he  should  be  holy. 

The  gro^vth  toward  ripeness  in  moral  experience  is  analagous  to 
development  in  physical  nature — that  is  toward  bcautifulness.  Just  in 
proportion  as  any  one  of  our  better  feelings  becomes  predominant  over 
the  others,  men  feel  that  character  is  growing  lovely,  attractive,  ad- 
mirable, as  they  say.  And  these  are  only  step-stone  words  that  bring 
you  to  the  last  one — beautiful.  And  when  a  man  whose  passions  have 
been  in  the  ascendency,  puts  his  affections  over  his  passions,  everybody 
says,  "  How  much  he  is  improved !"  When  a  gi'eat  triiculent,  bull- 
headed  man,  who  has  been  living  in  the  indulgence  of  the  most  beluine 
parts  of  his  nature,  begins  to  be  subdued  by  home  influences,  and  the 
little  child  is  able  to  lead  him ;  when  his  gi'eat  strength  begins  to  be 
brought  under  the  control  of  his  tenderer  domestic  affections,  every- 
body says,  *'  How  beautiful  the  sight  is !"  It  is  beautiful.  The  term 
is  exactly  well  applied  there.  And  when  you  find  that  superadded  to 
this,  there  comes  over  a  man's  nature  the  higher  graces,  the  magnan- 
imities, the  generosities,  the  fervors  of  devotion ;  when  one  begins  to 
live  by  the  power  of  hope  and  faith  and  love,  and  maintains  purity  of 
living,  men  look  upon  him  and  say,  "Admu'able!  Beautiful!"  And 
it  is  beautiful — literally  beautiful. 

There  is  nothing  so  beautiful  in  this  world  as  beauty  of  character. 
Oh  !  how  men  long  for  it !  I  do  not  wonder  that  men  have  worshipped 
Gods  that  they  made  out  of  men.  Man  is  a  worshipping  creatm-e,  and 
if  he  cannot  get  anything  better,  he  will  make  his  own  God.  A  God 
he  will  have,  and  a  God  he  will  worship.  Men  hunger,  they  long,  for 
some  Being  that  they  can  reverence  and  adore.  The  artist  does  not 
more  long  for  beautiful  featm-es  or  faces  or  forms,  than  every  moral 
nature  longs  to  see  characters  that  are  so  well,  so  strongly,  so  harmo- 
niously, so  finely  and  fully  developed,  that  they  impress  those  who  be- 
hold them  with  the  idea  of  admlrableness,  and  make  them  feel  that  it 
is  pleasant  to  sit  and  look  at  them,  and  to  be  where  they  are. 

I  have  known  some  persons  that  impressed  me  just  as  some  pictures 
do.  Now  and  then  there  is  an  elect  picture.  Most  of  the  pictures  in 
this  world  are  in  their  sins  ;  but  novf  and  then  there  is  one  that  has 
been  converted,  and  is  elect  and  precious.  And  to  sit  in  the  room  with 
such  a  picture  is  to  have  a  perpetual  blessing.  If  a  man  could  swing 
the  rainbow  as  a  hammock  and  sleep  in  it,  how  the  poet  would  like  to 
do  it  I  But  now  and  then  there  is  a  rainbow-picture  in  the  room  which 
is  like  the  falling  down  upon  me  of  all  sweet  and  celestial  influences. 
I  know  not  what  it  is ;  and  I  am  lifted  before  I  am  aware  what  lifts 
me.     NoVs'  and  then  there  are  picture-persons ;  but  they  are  rare.     We 


92  BBAUTT. 

are  obliged  to  take  eacli  other  just  as  we  are.  We  are  only  good  In 
spots,  at  any  rate.  Most  persons  are  like  these  street  organs,  that  have 
been  very  much  used,  in  which  only  every  other  note  sounds,  and  in 
which  each  of  the  notes  that  do  sound  has  an  individual  liberty  of  its 
own;  and  so  it  is  crank-turning,  with  a  hop- skip  and  a  jump,  one  note 
being  hit  here,  and  another  there,  with  a  blank  between.  Now  and  then 
there  are  harmonious  natures,  well  chorded,  well  put  together,  even  in 
quality,  admirable  in  proportion,  entirely  self-restrained,  and  with  force 
enough  to  throw  out  a  continual  influence.  Under  such  circumstances 
we  feel  not  only  that  they  are  beautiful,  but  that  they  are  beautiful  in 
both  senses — that  they  are  physically  beautiful,  and  morally  beautiful. 
For  it  is  not  possible  that  one  should  be  under  the  dominion  of  a  noble 
feeling,  and  not  look  beautiful  in  the  face.  So  really  is  beauty  the  crea- 
ture of  the  mind  and  the  soul,  that  when  the  body  is  never  so  homely, 
if  the  soul  has  the  power  of  expression,  it  will  shine  through  and  fill 
the  pores  of  the  skin,  and  transform  the  individual.  There  is  no  per- 
son who  is  not  radiant  when  he  is  under  the  inspiration  of  the  highest 
feelings.  There  is  no  person,  though  he  be  hump-backed,  and  dwarfed, 
and  disfigured,  who,  if  he  has  the  love  of  God,  and  a  soul  of  praise,  will 
not  shine  with  divine  outward  beauty.  Though  his  body  may  not  be 
symmetric  and  harmonious  artistically,  yet  everybody  will  say,  "  He  is 
handsome.     The  deformed  lump  is  not  as  homely  as  I  thought." 

Ah !  the  visions  that  have  gone  from  men  !  The  most  beautiful 
things  are  the  things  which  you  remember,  and  that  were  fugitive. 
Many  of  you  remember  the  day  when  you  thought  God  had  sent  a 
ministering  angel  to  wait  upon  you  all  your  life.  That  ministering  an- 
gel became  your  companion ;  and  you  were  imperfect,  and  she  was  im- 
perfect; and  you  went  on  battle-door  and  shuttle-cock  fashion;  and  by- 
and-by  you  settled  down  into  a  kind  of  humdrum  life  of  toleration  one 
for  the  other.  And  you  would  laugh  at  what  you  called  sentiment  and 
sentimentality,  saying  to  the  young,  blasphemously,  "Take  it  all  out 
now.  I  know  what  that  means.  I  was  once  in  your  place."  And  yet 
there  come  hours  in  which  such  an  one  remembers  how  the  most  beau- 
tiful thing  he  ever  saw  in  this  world  was  the  fair  virgin  face  of  the 
loved  one,  in  that  moment  when  the  full  assurance  of  love  dawned  on 
her  soul.  And  sh^i  remembers  his  face.  And  there  was  not  in  all  then* 
life  another  point  of  time  in  which  they  looked  reality  so  absolutely  in 
the  fiice. 

Men  say  that  that  was  sentiment.  Men  say  that  that  was  fancy.  •  J 
say  that  it  was  the  veiy  alphabet  of  everlasting  truth.  I  say  that  it  was 
one  moment's  gleam  through  the  opaque  and  sin-contorted  world,  so 
that  these  jiersons  saw  how  beautiful  the  soul  was  in  its  best  feelings, 
in  theii*  l^est  moods,  when  they  were  radiant.  That  was  seeing  the  soul 


BEATTTT.  93 

itself.  Ab  !  that  the  curtain  should  have  fallen  so  soon !  Ah !  that 
the  literature  should  have  been  so  little !  Not  only  do  men  know  that 
these  things  are  beautiful,  but  if  they  gi'ow  in  this  knowledge,  if  they 
go  on  learning,  the  longer  they  live  the  longer  and  the  more  perfect 
becomes,  not  simply  their  ai^preciation  of  beauty,  but  then*  conviction 
that  of  all  beautiful  things  there  is  nothing  in  this  world  like  a  beauti- 
ful soul  and  like  the  beautiful  experiences  which  proceed  fi-om  it.  Moral  i 
quality,  then,  is  beautiful. 
Now  for  some  applications. 

1.  All  the  world  recognizes  beauty  in  the  lower  grade  of  qualities,  i 
Everybody  recognizes  gentleness  as  something  very  beautiful.  Every- 
body recognizes  amiableness  as  something  very  beautiful.  It  is  the 
higher  moral  experience  that  men  lack  a  knowledge  of  Devotion  is 
more  beautiful  than  passion.  The  love  of  God  in  the  soul  is  far  more 
beautiful  than  any  love  to  man  can  be.  Faith  and  hope  in  their  full 
fruition  are  to  the  eye  of  anyone  that  looks  upon  them  far  more  attrac- 
tive and  far  more  beautiful  than  a  cheerfulness  or  buoyancy  or  hope- 
fulness of  the  lower  life. 

The  qualities  of  religion  to  which  we  are  called  are  supreme,  not 
alone  in  importance,  but  in  art  even.  They  are  essentially  and  intrin- 
sically more  admirable,  more  noble,  more  beautiful,  than  all  the  lower 
experiences.  Men  recognize  the  truth  in  regard  to  the  lower  ones.  We 
look  at  what  are  called  the  moral  virtues,  and  we  think  them  to  be  ad- 
mu'able.  But  I  will  tell  you  that  the  analogy  of  the  same  experience 
which  you  have  had  in  regard  to  the  lower  forms  of  emotion,  goes  on 
up  to  the  very  highest.  And  when  I  call  you  to  a  Christian  life,  I  call 
you  to  the  supremest  art.  I  call  you  to  the  highest  range  possible. 
For  to  be  a  Christian  man  does  not  mean  that  a  man  should  become 
meager,  and  poor,  and  mean,  and  low.  It  does  not  mean  that  he  should 
become,  as  it  were,  the  offscouring  of  the  earth.  There  is  more  nobil- 
ity in  the  Christian  idea  than  in  all  others  put  together.  You  recog- 
nize beauty  in  body,  and  you  recognize  a  faint  idea  of  beauty  also  in 
the  lower  social  qualities.  And  that  same  God,  so  much  of  whose  han- 
diwork you  recognize,  has  made  beauty  to  rise  and  be  more  impressive, 
and  more  grand  and  glorious,  as  we  go  up.  And  when  we  come  to 
the  heavenly  land,  methinks  we  shall  be  yet  more  impressed  with  the 
wonderful  radiancy  of  beauty  than  with  all  other  things.  We  shall  be 
like  men  that  look  the  sun  in  the  face.  The  light  will  be  so  strong 
that  if  we  should  gaze  full  upon  it,  it  would  blind  us. 

2.  IIow  great  is  the  variety  of  spiritual  things  in  the  Cliristian, 
life  !  and  how  few  things  are  gained !  When  one  looks  at  the  varie-. 
ties  of  spiritual  beauty  which  are  possible,  he  is  struck  with  the  mea»-. 
gerness  of  actual  attainment  among  men.     There  are  very  few  Chria- 


94  BEAUTY. 

tian  experiences  which  have  become  strong  and  powerful.  Little  fine- 
ness is  given  to  our  Christian  feelings.  Everything  is  defective  in  har- 
mony. In  other  words,  if  I  may  so  say,  Christians  are  barbarians  yet. 
And  what  I  mean  by  that  is  this:  A  barbarian  will  behalf-naked, 
with  no  clothing  except  a  ragged  blanket  about  his  loins  ;  but  if  he  has 
a  string  of  beads  around  his  neck,  and  something  in  his  eai"s,  he  is  im- 
mensely tickled  with  his  beauty.  And  you  laugh  at  him.  But  Chris- 
tians are  just  like  him.  They  have  two  or  three  tinkling  virtues  that 
they  put  on  which  cover  a  part  of  then*  nakedness,  and  leave  the  rest 
uncovered.  Miserably  clad,  they  are,  in  the  garments  of  nature  ;  and 
they  are  quite  elate  and  quite  proud  of  then*  attainments,  and  their 
beauty  and  grace.  Ah !  a  sense  of  beauty  requu-es  more  largeness,  and 
more  harmonious  adjustment  of  all  the  parts  of  our  nature. 

How  many  persons  are  there  that  are  beautiful  in  temper  ?  How 
many  Christians  are  there  in  this  audience,  who,  under  provocation, 
blossom  into  beauty — that  is,  who  have  meekness  ?  How  many  per- 
sons are  there,  who,  in  the  midst  of  all  then-  gains,  are  humble — that  is 
to  say,  have  such  a  sense  of  that  which  lies  before  them  that  they  are 
not  puffed  up  ;  that  they  do  not  behave  themselves  unseemly  /  that 
they  do  not  thinh  of  themselves  more  highly  than  they  ought  to  think? 

How  many  persons  are  there  whose  good  nature  is  anything  more 
than  the  mere  product  of  good  health,  so  that  when  they  are  unwell 
they  are  cross,  and  when  they  are  well  they  are  good  natured  ?  How 
many  persons  are  there  in  whom  there  is  anything  like  disinterested 
benevolence ;  who  really  like  to  do  good ;  and  who  act  benevolently 
without  stopping  to  ask  whether  it  is  for  their  interest  or  not — who  do 
not  depend  upon  the  poor  crutch  of  self-interest  to  hold  them  up  to 
their  benevolence  ?  How  many  persons  are  there  who  sow  not  expect- 
ing to  reap  again  ?  How  many  persons  are  there  who  do  kind  and  be- 
nificent  things  from  the  love  of  doing  them  ?  How  little  of  that  which 
we  call  evidence  of  piety  or  Christian  character,  has  strength  enough  to 
go  alone !  How  it  is  mLxed  with  lower  motives  !  How  few  there  are 
in  God's  choir  on  earth  !  and  how  discordantly  they  perform  together 
when  they  attempt  to  emit  the  sweet  sounds  of  Christian  experience  in 
life! 

The  Bible  declares  that  God's  people  in  the  world  are  the  bride  of 
the  Lord.  The  church  is  spoken  of  under  the  figure  of  a  bride.  It  is 
compared  to  a  bride  adorned  for  her  bridegroom.  Paul  represents 
Christ  as  preparing  to  present  us  before  the  throne  of  his  Father,  with- 
out blemish,  wrinkle  or  spot.  That  is  to  say,  as  a  young  man,  going 
forth,  finds  the  companion  of  his  life,  wins  and  marnes  her,  and  brings 
l)er  home  with  unutterable  joy  and  gladness,  sure  that  the  household 
will  all  admu-e  his  choice,  and  presents  her,  fan-  and  admirable,  to  his 


BEAUTY.  95 

father  and  mother,  so  the  Bible  says  Christ  is  doing  by  us.  He  is 
wedding  us  to  himself,  and  is  preparing  us,  that  by-and-by  he  may  pr& 
sent  us  perfect  before  the  throne  of  his  Father, 

But  how  little  is  the  Church  beautiful  in  its  grace  !  How  little  is 
there  which  makes  us  so  comely  that  God  will  be  glad  to  look  upon  us, 
and  will  say  to  his  Son,  "  How  fiir  is  thy  bride !"  Life  has  done  so 
little  to  us  that  death  must  do  a  great  work  if  we  are  beautiful  when 
we  get  to  heaven. 

3.  The  unbeautifulness  of  Christian  life  is  sadly  shown  in  the  popu- 
lar impression  with  regard  to  religion.  What  is '  the  impression  of 
the  world  at  large  in  respect  to  religion'?  Is  it  the  general  feeling  that 
it  is  desirable  and  beautiful !  No.  To  a  very  large  extent  men  feel 
that  religion  is  something  that  may  be  obligatory,  or  as  a  duty,  but  that 
there  is  nothing  attractive  about  it.  Or,  they  regard  it  as  a  policy  of 
safety,  for  the  most  part,  and  feel  that  if  religion  can  be  got  along 
without  to  the  end  of  life,it  had  better  be  deferred,  that  they  may  take 
their  enjoyment  and  spend  themselves  in  worldly  pleasure,  but  that  in 
then-  last  hours  it  is  well  for  them  to  step  in  and  take  religion,  and  so 
be  safe  for  the  futm-e.     That  meets  the  idea  of  men. 

The  true  idea  is,  that  a  man  who  goes  into  a  Christian  experience, 
goes  into  a  larger  liberty,  and  goes  into  a  larger  joy — not  the  joy  of 
the  mystic  ;  not  the  unsearchable,  hidden  joy  of  faith  ;  but  any  joy  by 
which  a  truly  Christian  man  may  be  made  happier.  Whatever  it  is 
right  for  any  man  on  earth  to  do,  it  is  all  the  more  right  for  a  Chris- 
tian man  to  do.  May  the  hired  serv^ant  cat  ?  and  may  not  the  son  eat  ? 
May  the  servant  respectfutly  speak  to  the  master  of  the  house  ?  How 
much  moi-e  the  son  ! 

If  a  man  has  come  back  to  the  divine  conception  of  human  nature ; 
if  he  is  attempting  to  shape  the  whole  character  and  life  so  that  man- 
hood shall  be  what  God  pui-posed  in  the  great  outline  of  nature  ;  if  he 
is  brought  into  communion,  through  grace,  with  God;  and  if  he  is  made 
an  hen-  of  immortality,  and  he  feels  both  worlds,  around  him  and  in 
him,  and  the  whole  power  of  the  God-head  is  resting  upon  him,  and 
his  mind  is  coincident  with  God's,  and  the  divine  thought  mingles 
with  his  thoughts,  do  you  suppose  he  is  made  mopish  and  miserable  by 
these  things  ? 

We  are  told  that  we  must  take  up  our  Cross  and  follow  Christ 
Yes  ;  but  every  step  the  cross  of  Christ  gi'ows  lighter  and  lighter,  until 
by-and-by  the  cross  carries  us,  instead  of  our  carrying  the  cross. 

Why,  we  are  as  men  that  are  in  a  dungeon,  and  to  whom  the  word 
comes,  "  Brake  your  chains,  and  get  out  of  your  prison,  and  follow  liber- 
ty." To  be  sure,  they  must  put  forth  exertion  to  break  out ;  but  the 
moment  they  are  out,  are  they  not  better  off  than  they  were  in  prison  ? 


96  BEAUTY. 

The  word  of  the  Lord  comes  to  us  in  our  bondage  to  the  animal  appe- 
tites, in  our  bondage  to  opinions,  in  our  bondage  to  carnal  and  secular 
pursuits,  where  we  are  all  moping,  and  groping,  and  looking  down  ; 
and  we  are  called  to  a  higher  life.  "We  are  called  to  more  freedom  in 
reason ;  to  more  freedom  in  moral  sense ;  to  more  freedom  in  affection  ; 
to  a  wider,  purer,  finer,  nobler  way  of  living.  There  is  not  one  feeling 
in  ten  in  your  nature  that  you  use.  But  God  calls  you  to  the  whole  of 
yourself  And  the  way  to  come  to  one's  whole  self  is  through  a  true 
Christian  experience.  A  man  who  knows  how  to  be  a  better  husband, 
a  better  father,  a  better  friend  and  a  better  neighbor,  is  happier  for  it 
A  man  who  is  called  to  a  Christian  life,  and  responds  to  the  call,  does 
business  easier,  and  more  naturally,  Whatever  a  man  does,  he  can  do 
better  if  he  does  it  as  a  Christian  does  it,  than  if  he  does  it  as  a  man  of 
the  world  does  it.  There  is  nothing  that  so  helps  a  man  in  the  dis- 
charge of  the  ordinary  duties  of  life,  as  harmonizing  his  whole  self  with 
the  divine  conception. 

In  being  called  to  a  Christian  life,  then,  we  are  called,  not  to  cu'- 
cumscription,  nor  to  gloom,  but  to  largeness,  and  power,  and  symme- 
try, and  fineness,  and  fullness — in  short,  to  beauty.  And  every  man 
who  becomes  a  Christian  ought  to  seem  more  radiant  than  ever  before. 
And  he  will  if  he  is  living  in  a  full  understanding  of  his  privilege,  and 
up  to  his  privilege,  or  anywhei'e  near  it.  For  it  does  not  require  pei'^ 
fection  to  be  handsome.  A  moss-rose  bud  is  handsome  before  it  blos- 
soms. 

4.  Christians  shoiild  at  least  be  as  sensitive  to  spiritual  beauty  as  to 
physical.  I  do  not  blame  men  who  want  to  surround  themselves  with 
outward  beauty  ;  but  I  do  blame  them  if  that  is  not  a  suggestion  to 
them  of  that  other  and  higher  kind  of  beauty  from  which  it  sprang,  and 
of  which  it  should  be  a  symbol  perpetually.  All  men  should  love  beau- 
ty in  common  things.  I  think  less  of  a  man  who  does  not.  If  a  man 
drives  horses,  I  hke  to  see  knots  on  his  horses'  heads.  If  a  man  is  an  en- 
gineer, I  like  to  see  him  polish  the  brass  and  the  iron  on  his  engine.  I 
like  to  see  a  man  that  has  a  little  corner  stuck  full  of  flowers,  though 
he  is  obliged  to  earn  his  veiy  daily  bread  off  from  the  scant  ground 
that  he  owns.  The  sentiment  of  beauty  is  a  thing  which  belongs  in  a 
man  ;  and  the  absence  of  it  is  a  deformity. 

Some  men  thank  God  that  they  do  not  care  for  these  folderols  ;  but 
it  would  seem  to  me  just  as  sensible  for  a  man  to  come  in  with  the 
stump  of  an  arm,  and  hold  it  up,  and  say,  "  Other  follvs  are  proud  of 
two  hands,  but  I  thank  that  God  I  have  only  one."  Are  a  man's  de- 
formities things  to  boast  of?     Are  they  subject-matters  of  gratulation  ? 

Every  man  who  is  a  true  man  has  in  him,  and  all  over  him,  if  he 
only  could  get  at  it,  and  give  it  culture,  a  sensibility  to  that  which  is 


BEAUTY.  97 

harmonious  and  fine  and  beautiful.  I  do  not,  therefore,  blame  men 
for  building  themselves  handsome  cottages,  instead  of  homely  ones.  I 
do  wonder  that  they  build  such  homely  ones,  when  it  does  not  cost 
any  more  to  build  a  fine  line  than  to  build  a  foul  line.  I  do  not 
wonder  that  people  have  their  trellises  covered  vines,  and  theu* 
gardens  filled  with  flowers  and  sweet-smelling  shrubs.  I  marvel 
that  men  should  be  so  insensitive  as  not  to  admu-e  these  things 
about  theii*  houses.  I  cannot  imagine  why  it  is  that  men  should 
build  fine  houses,  and  pay  thousands  and  thousands  of  dollars  for 
carpets  for  the  floors,  and  for  paper  for  the  walls,  and  for  perpen- 
dicular carpets  for  the  windows  (spending  great  suras  of  money  to 
get  the  light  in,  and  greater  ones  to  keep  it  out),  and  for  upholstery — 
I  cannot  imagine  why  it  is  that  people  should  do  these  things,  and  then 
have  no  pictures  in  theu*  rooms  except  those  miserable  Swiss  machine 
pictures  (I  wish  all  the  ships  that  start  to  bring  them  across  the  ocean 
would  founder  on  the  other  side),  every  one  of  which  represents  a  moun- 
tain, a  stream,  a  bridge,  and  a  fool  looking  at  it  generally !  They  go 
all  their  life  unhungry,  unthii'sty,  needing  nothing,  wanting  nothing 
that  shall  feed  the  soul  with  higher  beauty  ;  but  they  must  have  a  car- 
pet every  five  years  ;  and  they  must  have  a  big,  fat,  plethoric  sofa. 
That  which  shall  minister  to  the  fancy,  to  the  esthetic  nature,  they  can 
dispense  with.  They  do  not  want  anything  which  shall  lead  them  to 
look  beyond  the  profitable ;  which  shall  teach  them  to  carry  the  idea  of 
profit  higher  than  that  which  is  measured  by  money  or  by  the  esteem 
of  men.  I  marvel  that  men  do  not  have  a  larger  sense  of  beauty.  I  do 
not  marvel  that  they  have  a  sense  of  physical  beauty ;  but  I  do  marvel 
that  when  men  have  learned  to  love  things  beautiful,  they  stop  short 
at  the  body,  and  do  not  want  to  be  beautiful  of  soul. 

I  see  men  that  groan  because  they  are  neuralgic.  There  are  men 
whose  temper  has  been  neuralgic  all  then  life ;  and  nobody  groaned  but 
those  who  lived  with  them.  I  see  men  who  are  retiring  from  business, 
on  account  of  nervous  depression,  over-work  and  over-anxiety ;  and  they 
nurse  themselves,  and  care  for  themselves,  and  every  morning  look  at 
their  tongue,  and  every  day  they  feel  of  their  pulse  ;  and  the  road  be- 
tween them  and  the  doctor's  house  is  beaten  hard.  And  yet  they  have 
been  a  great  deal  worse  inside.  If  they  could  see  their  soul's  portrait, 
they  would  see  that  they  are  sick  enough  there.  But  they  never  went 
to  a  doctor  on  account  of  their  soul.  They  did  not  care  much  about 
that.  They  could  not  bear  to  see  the  pains  of  the  body,  but  it  did 
not  trouble  them  to  see  the  pains  of  the  soul.  They  could  not  bear  to 
have  outward  things  inharmonious,  and  less  than  full  and  powerful  and 
symmetric.  They  loved  to  clothe  whatever  they  had  with  the  garments 
of  beauty.     And  when  they  come  to  the  higher  form  of  beauty,  why  is 


98  BEAUTY. 

not  the  analogy  earned  on  ?  Why  do  not  men  want  to  be  beautiful  in 
then-  higher  nature  ?  Why  do  they  not  desire  the  best  and  noblest 
things  ?  Oh  !  the  conflict  of  life — the  damaging  conflict  of  life !  How 
many  there  have  been  that  started  out  brave,  pm'e,  true  and  noble,  but 
that,  by  the  time  they  were  forty-five  years  old,  shook  their  heads,  and 
said,  "  These  things  are  veiy  pretty  to  talk  about ;  but  there  is  not  much 
reality  in  them.     Life  does  not  permit  their  realization." 

Now,  I  believe  it  is  possible  for  men  to  be  men  in  this  world,  har- 
monious, brave,  noble  and  beautiful.  It  costs  some  trouble ;  but  it  is 
wortli  all  it  costs,  a  thousand  times  over.  And  we  are  called  to  it.  I 
do  not  believe  one  word  in  cynicism.  The  cynic  is  my  abhorence. 
When  men  tell  me  that  this  life  is  to  be  poor  in  order  that  the  other  one 
may  be  rich,  I  deny  it.  It  is  not  so.  If  we  are  only  willing  to  be  rich 
and  beautiful  in  the  right  place,  in  the  right  way,  and  in  the  right  ele- 
ments, then  this, life  calls  for  riches  and  beauty.  This  is  the  meaning 
of  the  Master,  when  he  says,  "  Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men  that 
they  may  see  yom*  good  works,  and  glorify  yom*  Father  which  is  in 
heaven." 

In  a  town — or  city,  as  it  called  itself — where  I  had  a  former  parish, 
there  were  but  two  or  three  gardens,  and  I  undertook  to  preach  the 
Gospel  by  the  garden  as  well  as  by  the  pulpit.  I  had  my  little  acre, 
and  filled  it  full  of  things  that  I  could  ill  afibrd  to  buy,  and  which  I 
could  not  beg ;  and  on  Sundays,  I  used  to  see  many  of  the  German 
population  out  looking  at  them.  I  had  a  bed  of  three  thousand  hya- 
cinths one  year ;  and  they  were  an  attraction  to  a  great  many  of  these 
common  folks.  And,  to  their  honor,  I  will  say  that  I  never  lost  a 
flower.  But  then,  they  were  Germans  !  My  roses  and  other  plants 
blossomed,  and  the  neighbors  continually  saw  them.  And  ray  eff"orts 
in  this  direction  were  not  without  their  fruit ;  for,  though  I  never  said 
a  word  on  the  subject,  it  was  not  long  before  my  example  began  to  be 
followed  by  others.  Now  and  then  there  was  one  that  came  and  look- 
ed over  the  fence  and  shook  his  head  as  though  he  doubted  the  wisdom 
of  my  devoting  so  much  land  and  so  much  time  to  the  cultivation  of 
flowers.  I  recollect  that  an  old  elder  of  my  church  stopped  one  day, 
as  he  was  passing,  and,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  said,  "  Wall,  I  s'pose 
you  enjoy  all  these  things.  I  think  the  purtiest  flower  I  ever  seen  was 
a  cabbage" — wliich  was  very  well  for  him.  Nevertheless,  taking  the 
young  and  the  old,  they  saw  my  bright  flowers,  and  the  love  of  flowers 
grew,  and  it  was  not  more  than  two  or  three  years  before  there  were 
ten  limes  as  many  flowers  in  that  town  as  there  ever  had  been  before. 
It  was  a  small  and  humble  way  of  fulfilling  the  law,  Ziet  your  flowers 
so  shine  that  men,  seeing  how  beautiful  they  are,  xcill  go  and  make 
gardens  for  themselves. 


BEAUTY.  99 

You  have  a  garden,  but  how  miserably  it  is  kept !  People  go  and 
look  over  the  fence  into  that  garden,  but  they  do  not  see  anything 
there  which  they  want  to  reproduce.  And  I  do  not  wonder.  I  should 
not  want  to  be  a  Christian  if  I  had  to  be  what  some  of  you  are,  just 
as  you  would  not  want  to  be  one  if  you  were  obliged  to  be  what  I  am. 
We  are  not  handsome  enough  to  make  folks  want  to  be  like  us.  We 
are  not  true  enough  Christians.  We  do  not  live  high  enough.  We 
ai"e  not  beautiful  enough.  But  Christ  says  to  every  one  of  us,  "  Plant. 
Let  all  sweet  graces  come  up  in  you.  Let  them  blossom.  Let  there  be 
something  for  every  month  of  the  year.  Let  the  twining  vines  and 
the  trees  hang  low  with  fruit.  Let  the  whole  garden  be  filled  with 
fragrance  and  beauty,  that  men  seeing  your  good  things — your  blossoms 
and  fruit — shall  glorify  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven."  That  is  the 
way  we  ought  to  live  ;  but  alas !  alas  !  it  is  not  the  way  many  of  us  do 
live. 

5.  God  is  bringing  all  good  men  toward  that  realm  and  that  in- 
describable experience  which  is  hinted  at  in  the  words  of  Scripture. 
The  work  which  is  going  on  in  us,  we  do  not  ourselves  at  all  appreciate. 

Have  any  of  you  ever  been  present  when  an  organ  was  set  up  ?  I 
have,  on  several  occasions.  Imagine  a  child  looking  at  the  litter,  at 
the  glittering  pipes  that  are  scattered  about,  at  the  unfinished  outside, 
and  at  the  mysterious  and  obscure  inside.  Little  by  little  the  machine- 
ry is  put  into  its  place.  One  by  one  the  stops  are  introduced.  And 
at  last,  after  pretty  much  all  is  in,  one  man  goes  in,  and  another  siis  at 
the  keys,  and  they  begin  to  bring  the  organ  into  tune.  Did  you  ever 
pass  by  a  church  where  this  process  of  tuning  was  going  on  ?  Do  you 
recollect  passing  by  this  church  when  this  organ  was  being  tuned  ? 
One  note  was  taken  as  a  comparison  note  ;  and  the  next  one,  being  put 
down,  began  to  squeal  in  the  greatest  discord.  Then  it  was  subjected 
to  a  series  of  tappings  and  knockings,  when  it  came  up,  and  came 
up,  and  came  up,  until  at  last  it  was  brought  into  a  perfect  blend- 
ing. Then  the  next  was  taken,  and  that  began  away  off,  and  came  up 
screaming  like  a  child  dragged  to  its  parent,  and  gi-adually  was  subdu- 
ed, and  finally  was  all  right.  And  if  I  thought  once,  I  thought  a  thou- 
sand times,  when  this  organ  was  being  put  up,  "  Well,  that  is  just  like 
me.  The  Lord  is  bringing  me  into  accord  in  that  way,  and  I  scream 
when  I  begin,  but  work  up  to  a  tuneful  state  at  last." 

That  is  what  is  going  on  all  over  the  world  in  the  churches.  We 
look  upon  this  great  scene  of  human  Ufe,  and  are  apt  to  think  that  it 
is  a  mere  chance,  hustling  conflict.  No ;  there  is  an  Eternal  God  ; 
there  is  a  divine  providence  ;  there  is  a  work,  mystic,  mysterious  and 
hidden,  going  on.  And  under  tears  and  pains  and  cries,  and  in  the 
midst  of  conflicts,  and  with  ten  thousand  things  that  seem  to  be  jang. 


100  BEAUTY. 

ling,  harsli  discords,  the  tuning  hand  of  God  is  at  work ;  and  little  by 
little  the  whole  human  family  is  being  brought  up  higher  and  higher, 
and  God's  people  are  becoming  more  and  more  harmonious,  and  more 
and  more  beautiful ;  and  very  soon  we  shall  be  carried  forward  into  that 
land  where  the  whole  work  shall  be  completed  upon  us,  and  the  glory 
of  the  Lord  shall  rest  upon  us,  as  the  sun  rests  on  the  blossoming  fields 
in  June. 

Let  us  not  be  discouraged,  brethren.  Let  us  mourn  that  there  is 
such  imperfection  and  such  discord  now  ;  but  let  us  remember  that  we 
are  to  go  into  heaven,  not  by  our  perfection  in  beauty,  but  by  the  grace 
of  God,  by  the  gift  of  love.  Let  us  remember  that  we  are  being  car- 
ried into  the  other  land  as  the  struggling  wretch  is  carried  into  his 
father's  house,  for  discipline — a  discipline  that  shall  make  him  a  sweet 
child.  Let  us  remember  that  by  our  trials  and  sufierings  we  are  being 
made  beautiful.  Do  not  count  them  to  be  the  most  fortunate  who  seem 
to  be  the  furthest  removed  from  God's  disciphne.  "  Whom  the  Lord 
loveth  he  chasteneth,  and  scourgeth  every  son  whom  he  receiveth.  If 
ye  endure  chastening,  God  dealeth  with  you  as  with  sons  ;  for  what 
^on  is  he  wliom  tlie  father  chasteneth  not  ?  But  if  ye  be  without  chas- 
tisement whereof  all  are  partakers,  then  ye  are  bastards,  and  not  sons." 

God  is  working.  Trouble,  anxiety,  forelooking,  foreboding,  an- 
guish, bereavement,  disappointed  aiFection — these  are  only  so  many 
tools  which  God  is  employing,  by  which  to  polish,  and  make  fiiir  and 
comely,  the  qualities  of  yom-  soul.  And  by-and-by,  out  of  this  shop- 
work,  out  of  this  tribulation,  you  shall  rise  fair  as  the  sun,  glorious  for- 
ever, and  shining  as  the  stars  in  the  firmament  of  God. 

Take  courage  then.  Do  not  look  down^nd  within.  Wait  for  the 
hour  of  transfiguration.  As  from  a  mountain-top  behold  your  hope, 
like  Christ,  whiter  than  snow.  And  in  that  royal  moment  look  up  and 
take  your  measure  and  conception  of  life  from  this  highest  and  most 
radiant  point.     And  then  rejoice. 

Soon  pride  will  have  done  its  battle.  Soon  selfishness  will  have 
run  out.  Soon  all  disturbing  j^assions  will  have  lost  their  power. 
More  and  more  time  itself  helps  you  to  bring  all  the  royal  attributes  of 
your  soul  into  fullness  and  harmony.  And  pretty  soon  death  shall  put 
the  crown  on  your  head.  And  then  you  shall  be  as  beautiful  as  God — 
he  being  Father,  and  you  children,  and  heaven  the  glorious  land  of 
beauty. 

Are  there  any  who  wish  to  go  with  us  ?  Who  would  be  crowned 
for  a  moment  and  discrowned  forever  ?  Who  would  wear  the  gar- 
ments of  praise  for  a  single  year,  and  then  moan  forever  more  ? 

My  friends,  we  are  living  an  invisible  life.  There  is  a  kingdom  of 
God  within  us.  There  is  a  work  of  God  going  on  there.  It  is  a  hard 
work.     It  is  a  work  in  which  om-  progress  is  slow — it  humbles  us  to 


BEAUTY.  101 

think  liow  slow.  Kevertheless,  we  are  called ;  and  being  called,  we  are 
being  educated  by  the  hand  of  the  Lord.  Will  you  not  join  the  num- 
ber of  those  who  are  preparing,  by  the  strife  of  this  life — by  its  joy,  by 
its  hope,  by  its  precious  experiences,  as  well  as  by  its  cares  and  sor- 
rows— for  dying,  and  who  shall  be  more  and  more  disclosed  as  they 
draw  near  to  death  ? 
/  In  that  last  hour,  you  and  I  will  be  veiy  diiferent,  oh  man  !  You 
are  richer  than  I  am  now ;  but  when  you  come  down  to  the  grave,  and 
your  will  is  made,  you  cannot  take  one  penny  of  that  difference  which 
there  is  between  you  and  me  with  you,  and  I  shall  be  richer  than  you 
are  then.  My  treasure  is  laid  up  in  heaven,  but  yours  is  laid  up  on  the 
earth.  Oh  friend !  when  you  go  down  to  the  grave  in  your  old  age, 
and  the  wine,  the  dance,  the  exhileration,  the  gay  associates,  and  the 
wild  wail  of  wickedness,  are  gone,  you  will  think  of  them  as  of  a  storm 
on  the  horizon,  in  the  past.  And  you  will  be  withered.  And  you  will 
have  no  hope,  no  outlook.  Then  the  poor  man,  that  seemed  to  have 
nothing  in  this  life — the  Lazarus  that  lay  at  the  rich  mau'^  gate — will 
begin  to  come  to  his  immortality.  In  that  hour  his  joy  will  begin  to 
rise  above  the  horizon.  They  that  have  nothing  but  the  hope  of  im- 
mortality are  stronger  and  happier  the  nearer  they  come  to  death ;  and 
they  that  seek  this  world  as  their  chief  good,  drift  further  and  further 
from  their  possessions,  the  nearer  they  come  to  the  mortal  hour.  My 
help  will  come  to  me  when  I  need  help  most.  You  have  your  help 
when  you  need  it  least.  By-and-by,  when  heart  and  flesh  fail,  you 
will  have  none  at  all.  My  joy  is  to  come.  Come  gray  haii's,  come 
dimness  of  vision,  come  dullness  of  hearing.  In  me  these  are  signs 
that  I  am  about  to  sprout  and  grow  in  a  higher  life.  But  when  infir- 
mity whitens  your  locks,  when  your  eye  grows  dim,  when  your  ear 
grows  heavy,  have  you  a  future  ?  Is  there  immortality  of  joy  and 
blessedness  for  you  ?  If  not,  are  you  living  right  ?  Are  you  living  ac- 
cording to  the  dictates  of  your  own  reason  ?  I  do  not  ask  you  to  join 
this  church,  or  any  church ;  but  I  put  the  question  to  every  sober- 
minded  man's  conscience  and  understanding,  Are  you  living  so  as  to  be 
rounder,  larger,  finer,  purer,  in  every  respect,  all  through  ?  Are  you 
living  so  that  you  know  you  are  coming  nearer  to  God,  and  nearer  to 
the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect?  Is  your  future  growing  radiant, 
or  is  it  growing  sadder  and  sadder  %  Are  you  living  right  ?  and  if  you 
are  not  living  right,  is  it  not  time  that  you  should  gu-d  up  your  loins, 
and  step  out  of  the  old  ways,  move  out  of  the  old  ruts,  and  take  a  new 
start,  with  a  new  purpose,  and  earnestly  call  upon  God  for  help,  that, 
peradventure,  before  the  day  be  past,  he  shall  come  to  your  rescue,  and 
your  soul  shal.  be  saved  ? 

INIay  God  make  us  all  wise  unto  everlasting  life  and  everlasting 
beauty. 


102  BEAUTY. 

PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

We  draw  near  to  thee,  with  humble  boldness,  our  best  Friend,  and  high- 
est. "With  thee  is  all  power  and  all  discernment.  With  thee  is  all  good- 
ness. Infinitely  more  tender  art  thou  than  man  knows  how  to  be.  For  the 
human  soul  is  a  desert,  parched,  that  bears  no  good  thing ;  but  thou  hast 
an  everlasting  garden  on  which  comes  no  winter.  Thou  art  iafinite  in  all 
excellence,  beautiful  in  holiness,  standing  above  all  conception  of  man — be- 
yond all  power  to  conceive.  Thou  art  the  One  overflowing  with  excellence, 
which  is  imparted  to  all  that  are  near,  and  that  can  receive  the  joy,  the 
light,  the  life,  the  love,  of  all  that  are  garnered  in  heaven.  Toward  that 
blissful  centre  tend  all  things  that  are  good.  Time,  that  sifts  all  things, 
shall  collect  and  bring  to  thee  whatever  is  worth  preserving  in  all  the  wide 
outlying  realms  of  universal  being.  And  thou  art  the  Father,  the  best  Com- 
panion, the  nearest  Friend.  Thou  art  the  One  most  suited  to  all  the  moods 
and  exigencies  of  the  human  heart.  And  though  there  are  gradations  of 
being  infinite,  and  those  that  reach  nearer  to  the  companionship  o"  the  Al- 
mighty than  we  do,  yet  thou  dost  condescend  unto  us;  nor  dost  thou  stop 
upon  the  outskirt  where  they  are  that  have  reached  the  highest,  with  the 
noblest  endowments.  Thou  dost  also  dwell  with  the  broken  in  spirit,  with 
the  humble,  and  with  the  contrite  ones.  Thou  dost  love,  not  because  of  our 
excellence,  but  because  of  the  stores  of  lovingness  that  are  in  thy  nature. 
Thou  dost  come  to  us  as  the  day  comes,  that  does  not  seek  out  the  things 
that  are  the  fairest,  but  rests  upon  all  things,  and  makes  them  fair  in  its  own 
beauty.  And  so  is  thy  righteousness  unto  us,  which  covers  our  imperfection 
and  homeliness.  In  thee  we  become  gracious  and  beauteous.  All  our 
good  is  of  God.  Thou  art  perpetually  sending  forth  that  influence  which 
should  create  us  into  true  holiness.  We  bless  thee  for  what  thou  art,  and 
for  what  thou  hast  revealed  of  thyself  And  we  are  glad  to  believe  that 
this  is  but  the  beginning  ;  that  we  know  but  the  alphabet ;  and  that  though 
even  this  little  so  transcends  the  measure  of  human  experience  that  we  can 
scarcely  take  it  in,  yet,  forever  and  forever,  in  ascending  vision,  we  shall 
still  find  thee  out,  and  forever  there  shall  be  more  to  be  known  than  has 
been  compassed.  Thou  art  infinite;  and  in  our  immortality  we  shall  not 
exhaust  thee.  And  we  rejoice  that  we  may  call  ourselves  the  sons  of  such  a 
God ;  and  that  we  may,  with  humble  boldness,  draw  near  to  obtain  mercy 
and  help  in  every  time  of  need.  And  we  come,  this  morning,  because  there 
is  no  hour  and  there  is  no  moment  that  has  not  its  need.  We  need  thee  for 
sanctification.  We  need  thee  to  instruct  us  and  to  warn  us.  We  need  thee 
to  rebuke  us  and  to  chastise  us.  We  need  thee  in  thy  providences,  in  our 
own  volitions,  in  every  home  experience,  in  all  our  work  and  way  of  life. 
And  we  rejoice  in  that  fullness  of  provideuce,  and  in  that  divinity  of  provi- 
dence, by  which  we  are  still  with  God. 

We  pray,  this  morning,  that  in  every  heart  there  may  arise  gratitude  and 
thanksgiving  for  all  the  mercies  of  tlie  past.  And  may  every  heart  lift  up 
a  consecrating  fervor  to-day  for  the  future.  May  we  desire  to  be  more  truly 
thine  than  we  have  ever  been  ;  and  may  we  lay  aside  every  weight,  and  the 
sin  which  doth  so  easily  beset  us,  and  run  with  patience  the  race  that  is  set 
before  us,  looking  unto  Jesus,  the  Author  and  Finisher  of  our  faith.  May 
we  behold  him  in  all  things,  and  always  behold  him,  and  live  in  him,  so 
that  there  shall  be  but  one  life — thine  in  us,  and  ours  in  thee. 

Wilt  thou  bless  this  congregation,  and  look  upon  all  that  are  gathered 
here  from  diverse  ways,  but  that  have  one  nature,  pointing  in  one  direction 
— toward  the  great  future.  We  all  march  together.  Grant  that  it  may  be 
under  one  banner,  and  to  the  sound  of  one  voice.  And  we  pray  that  we ; 
may  be  united  in  fervent  faith.  And  grant  that  in  the  great  union  of  hearts' 
in  the  love  of  God,  and  in  the  hope  of  immortality,  we  may  stand  more  to' 
rejoice  in  this  unity  than  to  look  upon  the  things  which  dissever  us  out- 


BEAUTY.  103 

wardly.  Oli !  may  we  be  ashamed,  as  a  part  of  the  ui.iversal  church,  that 
we  suffer  the  figments  of  our  own  imagination,  the  inventions  ot  our  own 
hearts,  to  dissever  the  body  of  Christ.  May  we  look  upon  God ;  and  know- 
ing that  love  is  greater  than  all  other  things,  and  that  all  thy  people  are 
united  in  love  to  God  and  in  love  to  man,  may  we  refuse  to  thrust  away  our 
brethren,  or  to  be  separated  from  them.  And  still,  though  in  outward  life 
walls  and  partitions  are  built  up,  grant  that  there  may  be  that  fervor  of  love 
which  shall  fly  over  every  wall.  And  as  birds  find  each  other  in  the  upper 
air,  loosed  from  the  entangling  thicket,  so  may  thy  people  of  every  name 
fly  high  enough  to  reach  each  other  when  they  reach  their  God.  And  so 
may  there  be  spreading  upon  the  earth  the  one  living,  blessed  church  of 
God,  and  the  union  of  all  true  hearts. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  thy  cause  in  every  form.  Wilt  thou  ad- 
vance civilization  throughout  the  globe.  Wilt  thou  lift  up  the  poor,  the 
naked  and  the  needy,  from  the  outskirts  of  creation.  Grant,  we  pray  thee, 
that  barbarism  may  cease,  and  that  civilization  may  take  its  place,  and  that 
superstition  may  pass  away,  and  that  a  true  religion  of  love  may  be  breathed 
upon  all  hearts.  May  wars  cease,  and  therefore  the  provocations  of  war. 
May  oppression  pass  away,  and  may  the  glory  of  the  Lord  arise  and  shine 
in  all  the  earth. 

We  thank  thee  for  the  great  things  that  thou  hast  done  in  our  day  and 
generation,  for  the  regeneration  of  this  nation.  We  had  not  hoped  to  live 
to  see  the  day  of  emancipation.  We  had  not  expected  to  behold  that  won- 
drous work  which  thou  hast  done,  and  by  which  thy  name  shall  be  glorified 
for  ever  and  for  ever. 

We  thank  thee  for  the  mercies  which  thou  hast  granted  to  this  nation, 
and  that  after  so  great  and  cruel  a  war  such  peace  hath  come,  in  such  meas- 
ure, upon  the  land;  and  that  the  channels  of  industry  are  filled  again;  and 
that  prosperity  comes  with  the  seasons  over  the  continent.  Still  be  our 
God,  as  thou  wast  our  fathers'.  Let  us  not  provoke  thee  by  our  sins.  May 
we  humble  ourselves,  and  cleanse  our  hands,  and  learn  to  do  justly,  and  to 
live  rightly.     And  so  we  pray  that  we  may  have  peace  in  our  time. 

Bless,  we  pray  thee,  all  the  nations  which  struggle  for  their  liberties. 
Strike  on  the  side  of  the  weak  that  are  right,  against  the  strong  that  are 
wrong.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  overturn  in  all  the  earth  till  He  whose 
right  it  is  shall  come  and  reign.  And  to  the  Father,  the  Son  and  the  Spiiit, 
shall  be  praises  everlasting.     Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

Our  heavenly  Father,  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  us.  Out  of  the  wealth 
of  thine  own  nature,  pour  upon  the  poverty  of  ours.  For  we  are  the  sand 
that  has  nothing,  and  thou  art  the  cloud  that  is  full  and  waiting  to  drop 
down  fatness.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  to  all  that  are  whelmed  by  influences 
which  are  greater  than  their  own  resolution,  the  mighty  strivings  of  thy 
spirit.  May  none  grieve  the  Spirit  of  God  by  which  he  is  filled.  May  every 
one  hear  God  calling  him  to  holiness,  to  glory,  to  immortality.  And  grant, 
we  pray  thee,  that  there  may  be  many  who,  instead  of  being  enemies,  may 
be  sons,  rejoicing  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  full  liberty  of  the  household  of 
faith.  Wilt  thou  bless  us  while  we  sing  again.  Go  home  with  us.  And 
when  life  is  over,  bring  us  home  with  thee.  Which  we  ask  for  Christ's, 
sake.    Amen. 


VI. 

All  Haili 


INVOCATION. 


ApHl  17, 1870. 

OJJR  Heavenly  Father,  vouchsafe  to  us,  with  the  light  of  the  moruing 
that  inward  light,  the  shining  of  thy  soul  upon  ours.  Lift  up  our 
thoughts,  il  they  droop  and  are  sad.  If  they  are  buried  in  sorrow,  then 
bring  them  forth  even  as  from  their  graves,  and  give  them  a  bright  and 
blessed  greeting  this  morning.  Deliver  us,  if  we  are  buried  in  care  and 
the  trouble  of  the  world ;  and  bring  us  to  newness  of  life,  that  on  this  morn- 
ing we  may  greet  thee,  and  receive  from  thy  lip,  All  hail!  Grant  unto  ns, 
we  pray  thee,  in  the  service  of  song,  in  communion  of  prayer,  in  fellowship 
one  with  another  and  with  thee,  that  divine  blessing  which  which  shall  make 
the  day  precious  to  our  souls.    We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 


i 


ALL  HAIL ! 


"  As  they  went  to  tell  his  disciples,  behold,  Jesus  met  them,  saying,  AH 
hail.  And  they  came,  and  held  him  by  the  feet,  and  worshipped  him. 
Then  said  Jesus  unto  them.  Be  not  afraid :  go  tell  my  brethren,  that  they 
go  into  Galilee,  and  there  shall  they  see  me." — Matt,  xxviii.  9,  10. 


It  seems  appropriate  that  on  such  a  day  as  this  we  should  turn 
aside  fi'om  a  more  formal  discourse,  and  review,  with  some  familiarity, 
the  scenes,  or  some  part  of  the  scenes,  which  transpu-ed  upon  the  oc- 
casion which  all  the  world  joyfully  celebrate  to-day. 

We  have  selected,  for  our  opening  sentence,  the  first  words  which 
our  Master  spake,  and  which  are  recorded.  They  are  the  words  of 
cheer  and  of  hope.  He  brought  from  the  grave  with  him  no  chill.  He 
came  back  from  death  with  no  message  of  teiTor.  He  had  been  in  the 
spuit-land,  and  in  the  spkit  of  it  had  returned  again  most  companion- 
able, to  recognize  his  friends,  to  pity  then*  weakness,  to  reassm'e  them 
with  love  and  confidence,  and  to  fiU  them  with  joy. 

All  the  circumstances  of  om*  Lord's  return  are  full  of  exquisite 
beauty.  The  things  omitted,  as  well  as  the  things  told,  are  worthy  of 
note.  The  sej^ulchre  is  shut.  And  during  his  sleep  no  word  is  spo- 
ken. There  is  no  dwelling  upon  the  morbid  features  of  his  death. 
The  whole  description  of  our  Lord's  crucifixion  is  sublimely  abstinent 
and  simple.  A  few  strong  lines  are  di-awn  upon  the  dark  and  stormy 
background,  and  the  main  features  stand  out  never  to  be  forgotten. 
Beyond  that  there  is  no  attempt  at  effect — nothing  minute — no  stroke 
after  stroke  to  work  up  the  efiect.  He  is  laid  away  quietly ;  and  just 
enough  incidental  record  is  given  to  enable  our  imagination  to  follow 
the  events — and  not  always  to  follow  them  consecutively.  There  is 
many  a  gap  to  be  filled  up.  There  are  some  things  that  we  cannot 
reconcile :  not  because  they  were  hreconcilable,  but  simply  because 
some  link  was  left  untouched.  There  is  a  sublime  carelessness  in  the 
record. 

He  was  conveyed  by  loving  hands — though  not  by  those  of  his  dis- 
ciples— to  his  rest  in  the  rock-hewn  sepulchi'e.  Nothing  more  is  said. 
How  he  was  borne  in,  what  teai's  fell  upon  him,  what  lamentations 

Easter  Sunday  Morning,  April  17,  1870.  Lesson:  Matt.  XXVII.  62-66 ;  XXVIXL  1-10; 
Luke  XXIV.  9-11.    Hiilns  (Plymouth  CoUection):  JS"o.  255.    le  Deum.  Ho.  306. 


106  ALL  HAIL! 

there  might  have  been,  we  are  not  told ;  nor  anything  of  his  condition 
while  lying  there.  No  light  is  held,  by  the  record,  at  the  sacred  portal, 
to  reveal  the  form  that  lies  muffled  within.  It  might  have  heightened 
some  dramatic  interest :  it  was  deemed,  however,  not  profitable  to  deal 
in  this  matter.  Nor  are  we  shown  the  act  of  the  resurrection  itself. 
In  none  of  the  narratives  is  the  precise  time  of  the  first  act  given,  nor 
any  approaching  symptoms  of  emotion.  AU  that  we  know  is  re- 
flected from  the  experience  of  those  outside.  There  is  no  revelation, 
by  a  line,  of  what  went  on  within.  Nor  has  the  Master  ever  spoken 
a  syllable  of  his  own  experience.  All  that  is  recorded  from  his  lips  is 
of  the  most  general  character.  He  speaks  of  the  past  in  the  most  gen- 
eric manner.  He  never  specializes,  never  details,  and  never  draws  out 
at  length  any  one  experience.  Had  we,  that  are  of  an  inquisitive  tem- 
per, with  a  habit  of  analyzing  our  own  experiences  and  those  of  others, 
and  with  the  philosophic  curiosity  which  is  so  common  to  our  age — 
had  we  been  in  the  disciples'  place,  we  should  have  asked  a  thousand 
questions  of  our  Lord  respecting  his  suflferings ;  of  his  thoughts  while 
Buffering ;  of  his  state  after  death ;  as  to  where  his  spiiit  roamed, 
or  went ;  of  his  resuiTcction  to  life ;  of  the  power  by  which  it  was  ef- 
fected ;  of  his  earliest  thought  in  rising  from  his  bier.  But  none  of  all 
these  things  ever  appear  to  have  been  asked,  and  certainly  to  them  no 
answer  was  given.  At  any  rate,  there  is  no  trace,  there  is  no  record, 
of  any. 

The  time,  however,  is  to  be  noticed.  For,  in  reading  of  what  the 
affectionate  women  did,  we  learn  what  was  the  period  of  our  Lord's 
resun-ection.  No  stress  is  laid  upon  the  fact ;  no  effort  is  made  to  set 
forth  the  divine  reappearance  in  the  dawning  light  of  the  early  morn- 
ing ;  but  it  is  said,  not  with  reference  to  Chiist,  but  in  explanation  of 
the  women's  conduct,  that  it  was  between  dark  and  light  that  Christ 
came  again.  "  As  it  began  to  dawn,"  says  one ;  "  When  it  was  yet 
dark,"  says  another ;  "  Very  early  in  the  morning,"  says  a  third ;  and 
all  of  them  ai'e  descriptive  of  the  dawn  of  day  out  of  the  darkness  of 
night.  Long  before  men  came  forth  to  work ;  before  the  air  was  bur- 
dened with  noises  ;  just  as  the  first  tentative  notes  of  waking  birds  be- 
gan to  be  heard  ;  while  the  leaf  unshaken  was  yet  loaded  with  dew ; 
while  nature  was  cool,  and  pure,  and  tender,  as  if  newly  made — in  this 
early  morning  hour  it  was,  that  Christ  came  forth  into  newness  of  life 
Ifi-om  the  sepulchre. 

Think  what  you  will  of  it,  I  never  stand  in  a  summer's  morning 
before  the  sun  dawns,  long  before  waked  by  birds,  to  look  out  upon 
the  yet  dim  and  dusky  landscape,  that  I  do  not  think  that  this  is  the 
hour  of  resurrection.  As  the  night  held  the  day,  but  could  not  long 
hold  it,  and  unclasped  its  dark  ai-ms  to  let  forth  the  morning  again,  so 


ALL  HAIL!  107 

cveiy  day  is,  to  them  that  have  an  imagination  therefor,  a  resuiTection 
day,  and  sets  forth  all  these  most  noble  and  beauteous  features  in  na- 
ture, and  s}'mbolizes  forever  and  forever  the  resmTection  of  om-  Master. 

Why  do  we  need  robes,  and  why  do  we  need  church  symbols,  when 
every  feature  of  nature  itself  is  one  divinely  constituted  symbolization, 
not  simply  of  spuitual  truths,  but,  if  well  used,  of  almost  every  event 
that  occurred  in  the  life  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ?  And  no  other  one 
thing  more  beautifully  symbolizes  the  resurrection  than  the  silent  com- 
ing of  our  day,  every  morning,  from  out  of  the  darkness  of  night,  say- 
ing to  those  that  have  ears  to  hear,  "  All  hail !" 

But  of  all  this  there  is  not  one  word  of  detailed  description.  He 
waked,  he  arose,  he  came  forth,  he  looked  abroad,  he  cast  off  his  gi-ave- 
clothes,  and  moved  away — though  not  out  of  the  garden ;  and  yet,  all 
this  we  must  imagine. 

Is  this  history,  then,  an  invention  ?  A  thousand  hands  are  busy 
to-day,  to  tear  away  the  evidence  of  its  reality,  some  tracing  all  the  way 
up  through  the  ages,  if  peradventure  they  can  find  some  superstitious 
monk,  or  some  counterfeiting  hand,  to  show  that  the  Gospel  sprang 
thence.  A  thousand  are  scrutinizing  the  events,  and  laying  one  over 
against  another,  if  peradventure  they  may  find  that  it  was  not  wiitten 
by  the  men  who  professed  to  narrate  it.  Is  this  history  an  invention  ? 
Did  cunning  hands  form  it  to  impose  upon  the  world  ?  Did  supersti- 
tious devotees  forge  the  narrative,  and  then  leave  the  most  temj)ting 
parts  for  effect  untouched  ?  These  omissions,  these  very  neglects  to 
specify  the  personal  experiences  of  our  Lord,  are  themselves  evidences 
of  divinity.  The  points  of  ordinary,  ardent  curiosity  are  passed  by. 
An  inventor  would  have  seized  them.  They  would  have  been  strong 
points  in  an  invention.  But  there  is  a  noble  negligence  in  the  Gospels 
which  can  be  explained  only  on  the  theory  that  artless  men  were  tell- 
ing the  truth  as  it  appeared  to  them,  not  for  a  purpose,  not  even  with 
a  philosophical  insight  into  it,  but  as  a  simple  record  of  facts  of  which 
they  or  some  of  then*  company  were  eye-witnesses.  And  there  it  stands,, 
beautifully  simple,  and  in  many  respects  imperfect — not  imperfect  ino 
the  sense  in  which  that  phrase  will  convey  a  meaning  to  your  ear,  but 
imperfect  in  the  sense  which  John  means  when  he  says,  "  If  all  the 
words  which  our  Lord  spoke,  and  all  the  things  which  he  did,  were- 
written  in  a  book,  I  suppose  the  whole  world  would  not  be  able  to  con^ 
tain  it." 

We  have  but  a  portion,  we  have  but  a  fragment,  of  any  pai-t  of  tUfr- 
life  of  Christ.  None  of  his  discourses  are  fully  given.  None  of  his- 
days  are  fully  journalized.  None  of  the  great  events  of  his  histoiy-^  are 
entirely  made  out.  It  is  but  a  sketch.  And  since  we  have  but  this 
outline,  the  beauty  of  it,  the  coherence  of  it,  the  divinity  of  it,  the-powefc 


108  ALL  HAIL! 

■vrhich  it  bas  exerted,  and  still  is  «5xerting  in  all  the  -vrorld,  can  scarcely 
be  accounted  for  on  any  other  g"ound  than  that  it  is  tme. 

It  is  to  be  noticed,  too,  that  it  was  love  and  fidelity  that  first  found 
out  the  resun-ection,  and  that  \%  was  not  the  love  of  the  discij^le  band — 
not  even  of  John ;  but  that  the  deeper  and  more  tender  love  of  woman 
was  the  pioneer  of  discovery.  The  disciples  doubtless  held  in  their 
hearts  the  memory  of  Christ.  We  may  well  suppose  that  theu's  was  a 
sleepless  night — a  night  of  watching,  of  prayer  and  of  supplication ;  but 
the  night  and  the  morning  to  the  women  were  of  tender  service.  It 
was  still  the  heart  of  woman  to  do.  It  was  still  the  labor  of  her  hand, 
if  might  be,  to  crown  with  memoiials  of  tenderest  afiection,  the  form 
from  which  the  life  had  passed.  And  of  all  the  women,  there  is  no  in- 
timation that  Mary,  the  mother  of  Jesus,  was  there.  But  Mary  Magda- 
lene, Mary  the  mother  of  James,  and  Joanna,  and  other  Avomen,  were 
present.  They  had  come  laden  with  ointments  for  embalming  the  body. 
They  had  no  hope  to  see  the  eye  beam  upon  them  again.  They  never 
expected  to  hear  those  words  from  his  lips  which  had  thrilled  then- 
hearts  before.  It  was  a  service  of  disinterested,  complete  and  ever-re 
membering  love,  such  as  women's  hearts  know  best  how  to  cherish  and 
how  to  express. 

They  gathered  around  about  the  twilight  tomb.  They  came,  and 
oh !  surprising  was  the  sight.  That  massive  stone,  which  defied 
the  lifting  of  their  tender  hands,  was  already  rolled  away,  though  on 
the  road  they  had  communed  with  each  other,  how  they  might  gain 
entrance  to  bestow  their  pious  care  upon  the  body  of  the  Saviour.  And 
on  the  stone  sat  the  angel.  Two  there  had  been — the  angel  at  the 
head,  and  the  angel  at  the  feet.  Francesco  Francia  of  old  has  represent- 
"X  ed  these  two  angels  most  exquisitely — one  as  the  angel  of  the  past,  i*e- 
membering  grief,  and  the  other  as  the  angel  of  the  future,  only  hoping 
for  the  time  to  come.  And  so  one  angelic  form  is  sad,  and  the  other 
is  blight  and  radiant. 

The  women  counted  not  these  things  ;  they  felt.  They  communed, 
-with  full  alarm  and  full  joy — for  both  strove  within  them  for  expression. 

The  nan'ative  is  as  dramatic  as  words  can  be  made.  It  came  to 
pass,  as  they  were  much  perplexed  thereabout,  entering  again  into  the 
sepulchre,  behold,  they  saw  two  young  men  sitting  on  the  right  side? 
clothed  in  long,  white,  shining  garments.  And  they  were  afraid.  And 
as  the  women  bowed  down  their  faces  to  the  earth,  in  obeisance — for 
there  was  something  divine  in  their  appearance — the  men  answered 
and  said  unto  them,  "  Be  ye  not  afii-ighted,  for  we  know  that  ye  seek 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  that  was  crucified.  Why  seek  ye  the  living  among 
the  dead?  He  is  not  hei"e.  He  is  risen,  as  he  said."  And  they  re- 
membered his  words.     And  they  departed  quickly,  and  fled  from  the 


ALL  HAIL!  109 

sepulchre,  wltt  fear  and  great  joy.  For  they  trembled  and  were  ainazed. 
Neither  said  they  anything.  For  they  were  afraid,  and  did  run  to 
bring  his  disciples  word. 

But  Christ  was  yet  lingering  in  the  garden.  He  had  not  gone  forth. 
He  knew  that  they  were  coming.  He  had  already,  by  that  divine  in- 
sight which  he  had,  perceived  their  coming  on,  and  waited  for  them. 
He  waits  ever  more  for  those  who  are  seeking  him,  whether  it  be  in 
the  early  morning  light,  or  in  mid-day.  He  is  ready  to  receive  those 
who  are  seeking  their  peace  and  their  joy  through  love  in  him. 

It  is  somewhat  significant  that  he  did  not  go  to  the  great  city  over 
against  him.  There  is  no  evidence  that  he  went  to  it  at  all.  It  was  then 
coming  slowly  into  light.  There  was  nothing  in  Jerusalem  that  his 
heart  craved  to  see  again.  Galilee  was  his  early  home,  and  it  was 
thither  that  his  thoughts  were  now  moving.  And'therfore  it  was  that 
he  charged  those  that  first  found  him  to  go  on  toward  Galilee. 

His  first  words,  of  which  we  shall  speak  more  in  a  moment,  are 
memorable  in  this,  that  he  seems,  without  saying  it,  to  have  turned 
away  from  Jerusalem,  the  scene  of  his  trial,  of  his  shame,  of  his  suifer- 
ing,  of  his  anguish,  of  his  death,  and  points  back  again  to  Galilee,  the 
scene  of  his  fair  youth,  the  sweet  remembrances  of  which  doubtless 
came  back  to  him  even  in  this  hour  of  the  morning  of  the  resurrection. 

But  mark  the  words  : 

"  As  they  went  to  tell  his  disciples,  behold,  Jesus  met  them,  saying, 
All  hail !  And  they  came  and  held  him  l^y  his  feet  and  worshipped  him. 
And  then  said  Jesus,  Be  not  afraid  ! " 

All  hail !  He  twt  afraid.  These  may  almost  be  called  the  voices 
of  the  grave.  Within  the  hour  of  his  coming  forth,  doubtless  they  had 
met  him.  The  cool  of  the  rock  was  yet  upon  his  brow.  The  sadness 
of  death  was  yet  scarcely  cleansed  from  his  eye.  He  came  from  death 
and  the  grave,  saying,  "All  hail !     Be  not  afraid." 

His  was  the  inspii-ation  of  the  other  world  coming  through,  as  a 
narrow  passage,  the  grave — the  rock-grave.  He  spake  in  the  spirit  of 
the  land  from  which  he  had  come  ;  and  to  every  one  that  has  heard  of 
Jesus,  from  that  day  to  this,  that  voice  still  rings  out.  His  salutation  to 
each  one  is,  "All  hail!"  and  to  everyone  his  greeting  is,  "Be  not 
afraid."  Very  God,  our  Judge  yet  to  be,  holding  the  destiny  of  every 
I  man  in  his  hands,  the  sovereign  liord  and  Monarch,  yet  he  meets  every 
one  who  goes  to  him,  how  poor  soever  he  may  be,  how  sinful,  how 
neglected,  how  outcast ;  and  his  gi-eeting  is,  "  All  hail  to  thee !"  And 
to  every  one  that  looks  up,  and  is  conscious  of  his  greatness,  still  his 
gi'eeting  is,  "Be  not  afraid." 

But,  in  the  local  interpretation  of  it,  going  back  to  the  thought  that 
this  is  the  language  which  first  was  breathed  from  Christ's  lip  as  ho 
came  forth  from  the  sepulchre^  how  strange  is  the  interpretation  which 


110  ALL  HAIL! 

it  gives  to  the  grave  !  "What  does  the  grave  say  to  yon,  and  to  me,  and 
to  every  one  tliat  looks  into  it?  What  "  hail "  has  it,  as  we  stand  by 
its  side,  to  look  down  into  its  narrow  passage  ?  What  cheer  breathes 
forth  from  it  ?  What  does  it  say  to  us  but,  "  Corruption  and  Decay  T 
What  does  it  say  but,  "  I  am  the  end  of  all  glory  ?"  Oh  !  we  go  from 
the  clasping  and  the  caress  and  the  kiss  to  the  grave,  that  has  neither 
kiss  nor  caress  nor  clasping.  We  leave  behind  us  the  heart  as  we  go 
to  bury  our  dead.  We  cling  to  them.  We  look  wistfully  after  them. 
And  as  the  sad  soil  beats  upon  the  drumming  coffin,  with  horror  in  the 
sound,  what  says  the  ground  to  us,  but,  "  Go  back  again,  earth  to 
earth.  All  is  over  and  ended  ?"  And  yet,  what  might  it  say  to  us,  if 
we  were  but  wise  to  interpret  it.  "  Here  thine  eye  shall  see  nothing 
more,  but  look  up,  and  look  through,  and  look  beyond ;  for  to  thine 
heart  there  is  immortality  beyond."  The  grave  is  but  the  shutting  of 
the  angel-hand  that  keeps  the  treasure,  and  conveys  it  safely  to  the 
other  side.  As  they  that  sail  over  the  seas  go  down  into  the  vessel, 
and  are  hid,  so  the  grave  is  but  the  resting-place  of  the  dead  for  a  little 
time — not  decay ;  not  loss  ;  not  final  separation  in  darkness.  No  ;  in- 
structed by  these  words,  the  voice  should  sound  out  to  every  one  of  us, 
that  comes  to  the  grave-side,  "  All  haU  !"  and  as  we  look  again,  "  Be 
not  afraid."  And  as  we  are  cheered  and  comforted,  and  lift  up  our 
heads,  the  voice  is  still,  again,  "  Go  tell  my  disciples.  Make  known  to 
them  that  which  has  been  joy  and  peace  to  you." 

And  see ;  this  is  not  only  the  voice  of  the  grave,  but  there  is  in  this 
hailing  of  the  disciples,  and  in  this  cheer,  the  interpretation  of  the 
truths  of  Christ  Jesus.  The  very  genius  of  Christianity,  as  it  is  after- 
wards developed  in  the  recorded  words  of  Christ,  is  contained  in  this 
simple  greeting  of  our  Master  to  those  that  so  early  sought  him.  This 
cordial  greeting,  this  greeting  as  of  blessings — "  All  hail !" — is  the  greet- 
ing which  Christ  makes  still  to  the  poorest,  to  the  most  needy. 

For,  foremost  among  those  that  thus  early  met  him,  was  Mary  Mag- 
dalene, out  of  whom  he  had  cast  so  many  devils.  And  whether  the 
ancient  legend  of  the  chm-ch  be  true  or  not,  that  she  had  been  a  wo- 
man lost  to  virtue  and  restored  again,  it  is  very  certain  that  she  had 
been  under  the  dominion  of  foul  demons,  and  had  been  restored  by 
the  hand  of  Christ. 

This  woman  was  first  and  foremost  in  the  love  of  gratitude,  as  well 
as  the  love  of  common  afiection.  And  so  she  seems  to  have  led  all 
the  rest,  and  to  have  been  first  and  foremost  in  seeking  for  Christ.  And 
to  her  the  voice  of  the  Saviour  was  a  voice  of  sweet  familiarity  and  of 
gre(!ting.  It  was  as  if  he  said,  "  All  hail,  to  thee  and  to  each  !" 
This  soothing  their  fears  ;  this  lifting  upon  them  the  light  of  hope  ; 
this  radiant  face  of  resurrection  that  they  saw ;  this  coming  forth  from 


_. 


ALL  EAILl  111 

the  dead,  not  maimed  nor  crippled,  and  with  no  blood  cm-dling  in  the 
veins  ;  this  at  once  entering  upon  the  social  relation,  with  "  All  hail !" 
and  "  Be  not  afraid  " — does  it  not  interpret  the  whole  after-spirit  and 
mission  of  Christian  life  in  this  world  ? 

There  is  in  the  world  a  superficial  and  perishing  pleasure  of  the 
senses  which  we  are  permitted  to  have.  It  is  good  of  its  kind,  and  for 
its  uses ;  although,  as  compared  with  better  it  is  poor.  And  there  is 
nothing  in  Christianity  that  frowns  upon  this.  An  excessive  addic- 
tion to  it  is  frowned  down  ;  but  even  philosophy  learned  to  do  that. 

Christ  taught  a  deeper  joy,  a  soul-regalmg  joy.  He  opened  the 
eye  to  the  world  everlasting.  He  taught  men  to  derive  their  satis- 
faction, not  from  things  that  perish,  but  from  thoughts ;  from  pure 
emotions ;  from  noble  ambitions ;  from  all  tender  relationships ;  from 
a  sweet  and  divine  and  spiritualized  taste.  He  opened  the  eye  to  the 
world  everlasting,  coupling  this  with  that,  and  making  them  a  part  one 
of  the  other — this  but  the  vestibule ;  that  the  temple. 

And  since  then  the  empire  of  joy  has  been  extended.  It  is  true 
that  through  misinterpreting  the  spirit  of  the  Master,  his  suffering  has 
by  some,  and  for  periods  of  time,  been  made  the  most  significant ;  but  he 
looks  with  an  uninstructed  eye  who  supposes  that  the  history  of  Christ, 
or  the  peculiar  genius  of  Christianity,  is  sorrow.  In  spite  of  all  the 
symbols  that  he  employed,  though  he  said  we  must  take  our  cross  and 
follow  him,  yet  by  his  own  disciples,  among  the  apostles,  in  the  early 
church,  and  in  the  words  which  he  himself  uttered,  it  was  still  taught 
that  the  empire  of  joy  was  the  empire  of  Christianity  ;  and  that  it  came, 
to  be  sure,  to  make  men  weep — but  tears  that  should  diy  up  tears,  they 
were ;  to  make  men  sorrow,  only  that  they  may  be  lifted  above  sorrow ; 
to  make  them  bear  the  cross,  only  that  the  cross  might  by-and-by  bear 
them.  Christianity  was  educating  and  reforming.  But  it  made  men  suf- 
fei- — yet  only  as  the  surgeon  does,  who  takes  them  from  pain  toward 
sanity ;  from  sickness  toward  health.  And  though  the  medicine  be  bitter, 
the  bitterness  is  that  the  tongue  may  be  cleansed  from  bitterness.  And 
they  are  made  weak  by  medicine  that  they  may  be  made  strong,  and 
do  without  it.  And  Christ  came  with  tears,  came  with  suffering,  and 
died ;  but  that  he  might  put  an  end  to  suffering,  and  establish  joy  in 
all  the  world.  And  when  he  returned  to  his  disciples,  after  his  short 
sleep  in  the  grave,  his  first  spontaneous,  outbursting  greeting,  was,  not 
that  of  his  own  suffering ;  not  that  of  the  weary  world  which  he  had 
re-entered;  not  that  of  the  a^vful  and  affrighting  mysteries  that  might 
have  been  imagined  in  the  other  life.  He  came  back  young,  and 
Bweet,  and,  as  it  were,  vivacious,  with  "  All  hail !"  upon  his  lips, 
and  "  Be  not  afraid  "  cheering  them  from  out  of  his  heart.  And 
Bince  that  time,  they  that  have  ti'uly  known  the  Lord  Jesus  Chiist 


112  ALL  HAIL! 

have  never  ceaaed  to  have,  from  day  to  day,  this  sweet  greeting.  As 
the  morning  comes,  it  is  still  "  All  hail !"  to  those  who  know  how  to 
listen.  And  in  the  great  and  hot  noons  of  summer,  when  all  the  air  in 
the  great  ball  above  our  head  trembles  as  wine  in  the  cup,  it  is  stil], 
from  out  of  that  great  air  above  us,  "  All  hail !"  And  when  evening, 
coming  forth,  approaches  with  tenderness,  it  is  still  "  All  hail !"  And  ev- 
ery day  and  every  year,  the  voice  still  sounds,  to  those  that  have  an  ear 
to  hear,  and  shall  to  the  very  end  of  life,  "All  hail !"  And  when  death 
itself  shall  come  to  us,  still  the  greeting  will  be,  "  All  hail !"  And  as 
we  leave  things  certain,  and  venture  into  things  uncertain,  still  the 
voice  will  say,  "  Be  not  afi-aid."  For  these  fii'st  words  with  which  Christ 
came  back  to  his  disciples,  are  words  that  now  sit  high  in  the  heaven, 
and  sing  forever  and  forever  the  notes  of  the  world's  joy  and  of  the 
world's  deliverance. 

I  will  not  follow  further  in  this  line  of  thought  to-day ;  but  there 
are  some  points  of  application  which  I  may  well  make  before  I  leave 
you  to  your  own  reading  and  to  your  own  better  meditations. 

These  words  of  our  Master  are  words  which  may  be  called  messages, 
to-day.  They  come  to  those  who  are  beginning  a  Christian  life  with 
peculiar  appropriateness.  You  are  entering  upon  a  life,  my  dear  friends, 
such  of  you  as  have  been  called  to  Christ,  and  have  listened  to  the  in- 
vitation, and  are  becoming,  in  the  sight  of  men,  the  recognized  disci- 
ples of  the  Master — you  are  entering  upon  a  life  which  has  its  trials,  its 
watches,  its  sufferings.  I  should  scorn  to  call  you  to  any  life  not  de- 
manding manhood.  To  be  a  Chiistian  man  requires  you  to  be  a  full  and 
noble  man.  You  are  called  to  reason.  You  are  called  to  all  the  noble 
variations  of  moral  sensibility.  You  are  called  to  every  depth  of  affec- 
tion. You  are  called  to  discipline.  You  are  called  to  enterprise.  You  are 
called  to  all  achievement.  You  are  to  make  yourselves  better,  nobler, 
happier,  that  men  may  be  won  to  your  side.  You  are  to  make  your 
companions  better.  You  are  to  make  the  world  better.  Ye  that  have 
put  your  fii'st  steps  into  the  royal  road  have  entered  upon  such  a  life 
as  this.  And  to  you  the  word  of  the  Lord  comes  this  morning,  "All 
hail !  Be  not  afraid."  He  that  has  called  you  will  walk  with  you.  He 
that  has  begun  the  work  in  you  will  complete  that  work  in  you.  Be 
not  afraid  of  temptations,  that  they  will  be  mightier  than  your  faith. 
With  every  temptation  he  Avill  open  a  door  of  escape.  Be  not  afraid 
that  men  shall  harm  you.  If  God  be  for  you,  who  can  be  against  you  ? 
You  are  created  by  him.  He  has  suffered  for  you.  He  has  lain  en- 
tombed. He  came  forth,  perfected  by  suffering,  to  be  the  Captain  of 
your  salvation.  And  in  the  earliest  experiences  of  your  Christian  life, 
he  says,  "  All  hail !  Enter.  Live  on.  Be  not  afraid.  Because  I  live, 
ye  shall  live  also." 


ALL  HAIL!  113 

And  to  those  that  are  far  along  in  the  Christian  experience  this 
voice  sounds  out,  likewise.  To  you  Christ  still  says,  looking  upon  all 
that  remains  of  your  mortal  life,  looking  upon  the  uncertainties  which 
many  of  you  feel,  looking  upon  the  many  difficulties  which  you  are  now 
wi'estling  with,  looking  upon  providences  which  you  cannot  scan  or  in- 
terpret, looking  at  the  mysteries  which  hang  over  your  life — Chiist  still 
says  to  you,  "Be  not  afraid !" 

This  morning,  full  of  memories  of  his  resurrection,  is  full,  also,  of 
suggestions  and  pledges  of  his  faithfulness  to  you.  Since  you  have 
proved  him  in  days  past ;  since  his  word  to  you  has  been  "  Yea  and 
Amen ;"  since  he  has  never  broken  a  promise ;  since  he  has  done  ex- 
ceeding abundantly  more  for  you  than  you  could  ask  or  think,  how  full 
and  emphatic  to  you  should  be  this  greeting  of  your  Saviour ! 

And  to  you  who  are  out  of  Christ;  to  you  who  have  looked  wist- 
fully, to  you  who  have  felt  yourselves  unworthy  to  speak  his  name, 
if  he  could  look  upon  you,  with  majesty  and  love  in  his  gaze,  he  would 
gently  beckon  to  you,  and  say  to  you,  "  All  hail !" 

To  you  who  have  never  loved  him ;  to  you  who  have  done  him  de- 
spite ;  to  you  who  have  set  at  naught  the  instruction  of  your  child- 
hood ;  to  you  who  have  by  a  thousand  judgments  and  warnings  been 
often  and  often  adjured  to  remember  your  own  souls,  and  your  God, 
he  still  would  say,  "All  haU!"  And  if  you  turned  with  penitent 
heart  to  him,  with  open  arms  he  would  receive  you,  and  say,  as  you 
lingered  and  looked  wistfully,  "Be  not  afraid."  Oh!  that  there  were 
in  us  to-day  this  heart  of  confidence  and  boldness,  that  we  might  ven- 
ture boldly  upon  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  be  not  afraid  ! 

Once  more.  That  which  was  true  of  our  Master,  and  that  which  i-s 
ti'ue  of  us,  and  will  be  as  long  as  we  live,  we  shaU  find  to  be  true  in  the 
life  which  is  to  come.  We  soon  shall  pass  the  allotted  bound.  We, 
too,  must  lie  down  in  the  grave.  We  must  go  forth  into  a  life  un- 
known, after  so  much  that  is  known.  A  pathless  path  we  must  tread ; 
companionless  go  among  the  infinite  hosts  of  the  spirit  land,  alone, 
surrounded  by  millions ;  go  as  though  never  taught  to  make  proof  of 
the  fii'st  elements  of  experience  there.  And  who  shall  bear  us  up  ? 
Who  shall  stand  by  us  in  dying  %  Who  shall  teach  om*  thoughts  to  be 
strong,  and  our  hearts  to  be  brave  %  And  when  flesh  and  heart  shall 
fail,  who  shaU  be  our  salvation  ?  » 

Dying,  the  voice  shall  still  be  to  us,  "  All  haU !"  And  when,  be- 
wildered, in  the  valley  and  the  shadow  of  death,  we  seem  almost  to 
stumble,  the  rod  and  the  staff  shall  be  brought  to  our  hand,  to  hold  us 
up.     And  the  voice  shall  still  guide  us,  "Be  not  afraid." 

And  upon  the  other  side,  when  these  eyes  shall  open  again,  and 
these  hearts,  chilled  in  death,  begin  once  more  to  beat,  then  the  first 


114  ALL  HAIL! 

•words  of  gi-ceting,  oh  mother !  shall  not  be  from  your  child ;  oh  hus- 
band !  shall  not  be  from  your  wife ;  but  Jesus  shall  meet  us,  and  say, 
in  the  early  morning  of  the  eternal  world,  "  All  hail !"  And,  trembling, 
lost,  uncertain,  we  shall  be  clasped  in  his  arms,  while  he  shaU  say, 
"Be  not  afraid." 

And  then,  as  if  the  seas  had  broke  foi'th,  and  as  if  all  the  heavens 
were  but  one  mighty  music-band,  the  angels  of  God  shall  acclaim  us 
ransomed,  and  bring  us  where  death  shall  have  no  more  dominion  over 
us  forever  and  forever ! 

To  the  faith  and  the  love  of  this  ascended  Savioui*,  I  commend 
your  souls. 


ALL  HAIL!  115 

PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON". 

Our  Father,  thou  hast  made  us  to  need  thee,  and  thou  hast  blessed  us 
with  the  knowledge  that  thou  dost  need  us.  Thou  hast  spoken  by  thy 
Son,  and  thou  hast  made  known  to  us  that  he  loves  his  own,  and  loves 
them  unto  the  end,  craving  for  them,  that  where  he  is,  they  may  be  also. 
Thou  givest  interpretation  to  meanings  of  our  own  hearts.  Our  inarticulate 
yearnings,  the  longings  which  come,  we  know  not  whence,  and  point  we 
knew  not  whither  until  by  the  Holy  Spirit  we  were  enlightened ;  the  prayers 
uttered  through  us  by  the  Spirit ;  the  groanings  for  us  which  cannot  be 
uttered^ — all  these  teach  us  of  God's  work,  and  of  his  wonderful  way  toward 
men.  What  we  are  we  know  not.  "We  tind  our  forces  less  than  all  the 
agencies  around  about  us.  We  are  filled  sometimes  with  admiration,  and 
oftener  with  pity,  and  sometimes  with  contempt  for  ourselves  and  our  fel- 
low men.  In  the  great  aims  of  life ;  amidst  all  its  strivings,  and  superses- 
sions, and  treacheries  and  deceits ;  in  its  cruelties,  and  cryings  therefor ;  in 
all  the  great  round  of  fears,  and  rivalries,  and  excitements,  wherein  men  are 
lifted  up  and  measured,  and  cast  down  as  in  a  moment,  if  we  look  forth 
into  the  boiling  tumult  of  human  life,  to  behold  what  man  is,  measured  by 
time,  how  poor  a  thing  is  he !  How  weak  and  worthless  is  life !  A  dream ; 
and  a  dream  mostly  filled  with  nightmare.  But  if  we  look  at  thine  heart, 
and  at  all  the  way  of  manifestation  which  thou  didst  make  upon  earth, 
there  is  something  more  to  man  than  that  which  is  revealed  here.  This  is 
but  the  first  summer,  and  not  the  blossom-bearing  summer.  There  is  an- 
other life ;  there  is  a  higher  realm ;  there  are  other  developments.  He  is 
worth  more  than  he  seems  to  be.  His  weakness  is  not  the  index  of  what 
his  nature  is.  Thou  hast  reserved  him  for  a  higher  sphere ;  and  all  the  out- 
goings toward  him  of  thy  nature,  and  thy  thoughts,  and  all  thine  acts,  do 
interpret  him  to  be  of  a  stature  worthy  to  be  called  a  son  of  God.  And  it 
is  in  this  future  enlargement,  it  is  in  the  fact  that  we  carry  the  germ  of  im- 
mortality, and  that  we  are  not  known  now  even  to  ourselves  nor  to  one  an- 
other, but  that  we  are  walking  disguisedly,  and  that  we  are  better  than  our 
best,  and  that  there  is  more  in  weakness  than  might  can  understand,  and 
that  we  are  to  rise  far  above  the  power  of  sublunary  things,  and  stand  re- 
deemed from  every  trace  and  taint  of  sin  and  weakness — it  is  in  this  that  we 
have  joy,  and  it  is  in  this  that  we  glory.  For,  if  we  sleep  forever  when  we 
sleep,  we  are  of  all  beings  most  miserable.  And  if,  with  such  a  height  of  ex- 
pectation, with  susceptibilities  so  acute  and  so  wide,  we  are  to  be  quenched 
as  the  taper  is,  and  to  go  out  in  darkness,  life  is  not  worth  having,  so 
little  is  that  which  we  have  in  life.  It  is  the  beyond,  that  we  long  for.  It 
is  the  right  to  be  ourselves  in  all  the  largeness  of  a  true  and  royal  nature. 
It  is  that  we  may  become  like  unto  thee.  It  is  the  hope  of  that  blessed 
society  in  heaven  which  makes  life  tolerable.  And  we  rejoice  that  we  are 
not  left  dimly  to  guess ;  that  our  pulse  is  not  left  to  beat  feebly  with  puls- 
less  expectation.  Thou  hast  spoken  it,  and  the  words  have  come  to  our 
ears  and  to  our  hearts,  and  we  believe  it — that  iecause  thou  livest  we  shall 
live  also.  Thou  hast  ascended  up  from  on  earth.  Here  thou  didst  walk 
and  speak  the  words  of  eternal  life.  Here  thou  didst  hold  forth  thy  heart 
of  love,  and  thou  didst  cheer  us  in  all  the  way  of  life.  Now  thou  art  wait- 
ing behind  the  screen.  It  is  but  a  veil.  Only  these  mortal  bodies  hide 
between  us  and  thee.  Ere  long  they  will  be  taken  down,  and  then  we  shall 
see  thee  as  thou  art,  and  shall  be  like  thee.  Oh  !  with  what  greetings  shall 
we  be  received !  How  blessed  it  will  be  when  we  rise  to  meet  thee  in  the 
other  land !  But  now  we  are  exiled  children,  away  from  home,  taught  in 
school  afar  ofi",  and  awaiting  the  summons  of  blessed  affection.  Yet  we  de- 
sire, oh  Lord  our  God !  during  all  the  time  in  which  we  are  tabernacled  in 
the  flesh,  to  walk  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God ;  to  have  no  idol,  and  no 
other  God  but  thee.  We  desire  to  cling  fast  to  thy  words  and  to  thy  love. 
For  if  we  are  with  thee,  nothing  can  harm  us. 


116  ALL  HAIL! 

And  wo  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  that  thy  people  may  be  augmented. 
We  thank  thee  that  so  many  know  the  hidden  glory  of  thy  Spirit ;  that  so 
many  know  the  secret  of  divine  love ;  that  so  many  have  walked  by  faith, 
as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible. 

We  are  gathered  together,  this  morning,  to  celebrate  again,  to  renew 
all  our  thoughts  and  all  our  sensibilities  in  view  of  thy  resurrection,  and 
thy  rejoicing  life.  Come  forth  again  the  flower  of  the  world,  the  light  of 
time,  the  blessedness  of  the  universe,  the  hope  of  eternity.  Thee  we  hail 
this  morning,  and  we  acclaim  thy  name.  We  rejoice  in  thee.  We  rejoice 
in  thy  power,  which  not  only  brought  thee  again  from  darkness  and  death, 
but  is  bringing  us  forth  from  darkness  and  death.  And  now  we  beseech  of 
thee  that  we  may  with  all  our  hearts  renew  om*  life  and  our  service  to  thee, 
and  cling  to  thee  only,  so  long  as  we  live. 

We  pray  for  thy  blessing  upon  our  households.  May  a  new  light  come 
with  the  Sabbath  day.  If  there  are  any  who  have  not  been  wont,  with  their 
households,  to  seek  thee  from  day  to  day  in  prayer,  may  this  be  the  day  of 
all  the  year  in  which  they  shall  come  before  thee,  and  establish  in  their 
households  the  daily  prayer.  Rise  ujion  them  with  a  more  blessed  resurrec- 
tion even  than  that  which  is  recorded  in  history.  Bring  home  thine  own 
self  to  them,  and  stand  in  the  midst  of  every  family,  and  say  to  them,  All 
hail ! 

And  grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  any  that  are 
wandering.  Restore  them.  Clear  the  sight  of  those  that  see  a  little,  but 
do  not  see  distinctly,  that  they  may  have  a  guide  on  the  way  of  purity  and 
truth  and  love.  Reclaim  those  who  are  gone  astray.  We  pray  for  the  out- 
cast and  the  neglected.  We  pray  for  the  ignorant  and  the  uninstructed. 
May  there  be  many  that  shall  be  filled  with  that  suffering  love  of  Christ 
which  shall  go  forth  to  seek  and  save  the  lost,  and  have  them  restored. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  bountifully,  this  day,  the  assem- 
blies of  thy  people  which  are  gathered  together  in  joy  to  worship  thee.  And 
may  thy  servants  that  speak  be  prepared  to  speak  the  very  truth  of  God. 
May  there  be  those  that  shall  go  forth  with  the  light  and  knowledge  of 
Christ  unto  all  the  nations  of  the  earth, 

O  Lord  !  let  thy  promises  at  last  hasten.  Long,  long  have  the  predic- 
tions waited.  At  last  let  the  morning  dawn,  and  the  night  flee  away,  and 
all  the  joy  of  the  earth  be  consummated. 

And  to  the  Father,  the  Son  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  shall  be  praises  ever 
more.    Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

Our  Heavenly  Father,  how  shall  we  ever  thank  thee  in  mortal  language 
for  that  gift  of  nature  and  of  grace  for  which  the  world  waited  long — the 
gift  of  thy  Son,  Jesus  Christ — a  blessed  gift.  Oh,  Purity  of  heaven  come  to 
earth  !  oh,  Gladness  of  love  made  known  to  men  !  oh,  Grace  of  truth  and  jus- 
tice, yet  not  acerb !  oh,  Joy,  yet  not  sensuous  and  impvire !  oh,  Blessedness  of 
God,  and  Hope  of  man !  let  others  leave  thee,  we  will  not,  if  thou  wilt  not 
leave  us.  Since  the  day  our  souls  heard  thy  call  to  us,  we  have  loved  thee, 
and  through  thee  have  learned  to  love  the  Father  and  the  Spirit.  But  thou 
art  nearest  to  us,  and  most  comprehensible  to  us,  and  art  personally  con- 
cerned in  us,  and  all  thy  thoughts  are  around  about  us,  and  we  are  drawn 
to  thee  with  irresistible  attraction.  We  would  be  better.  We  would  have 
thy  friendship  purifying  us.  We  would  be  redeemed  from  the  weakness  of 
the  flesh,  and  from  the  power  of  temptation,  by  the  majesty  of  thy  victori- 
ous love.    And  since  thou  art  willing,  we  are  willing.    We  rejoice  that 


ALL  HAIL  I  117 

thou  takest  us  in  all  our  defilements,  and  all  our  imperfections,  and  art 
teaching  us  how  to  be  tender,  and  how  to  be  forgiving,  and  how  to  be  mag- 
nanimous toward  those  who  are  unworthy  of  the  greatness  of  thy  love  and 
magnanimity  toward  us.  Oh !  what  despite  hast  thou  suffered  at  our  hands  1 
Oh  !  what  long  tolerance  has  thine  infinite  purity  had  1  Oh !  how  gentle 
and  gracious  has  thy  sparing  mercy  been !  So  blunted  have  we  become,  that 
we  do  not  appreciate  the  way  of  grace  with  us  from  day  to  day,  and  through 
all  our  life ;  and  yet,  it  has  been  through  thy  goodness. 

And  now,  O  Lord  Jesus !  we  will  not  leave  thee  nor  forsake  thee.  We 
will  not  let  doubts  drive  us  from  thee.  We  will  not  suffer  any  cunningly 
devised  philosophy  to  drive  us  from  thee.  We  will  not  suffer  the  world, 
nor  the  pleasures  thereof,  to  seduce  us  from  thee.  Hold  us  fast.  Do  not  let 
us  go  till  the  day  break — nor  then.  Hold  us  fast  while  we  live,  and,  by  liv- 
ing, bring  us  unto  that  greater  love,  and  that  greater  joy,  and  that  greeting 
of  the  morning  when  the  shades  have  fled  away  and  the  singing  birds  shall 
be  far  behind  us,  and  the  rolling  time  shall  no  longer  be  heard,  and  no  storm 
shall  be  felt  or  dreaded ;  in  that  sweet  morning  of  everlasting  peace,  when 
thou  shalt  receive  us  with  All  hail !  to  heaven.  And  then  we  shall  see  thee 
as  thou  art.  In  amplitude,  in  transcendent  glory,  in  ineffable  love,  we  shall 
behold  thee.  And  as  those  that  are  around  about  thee  sing  forth  their 
everlasting  joy,  we,  too,  caught  in  the  sympathy,  will  praise  thee,  Father, 
Sou  and  Spirit,  evermore.    Amen, 


vn. 

Night  and  Darkness. 


NIGIT  AND  DARKNESS. 


"  And  have  no  fellowship  with  the  unfruitful  works  of  darkness,  but 
rather  reprove  them," — Eph.  v.,  11. 


The  terra  fruit — unfruit — \%  not  uncommon  in  Scripture  usage. 
The  origin  of  it  is  very  obvious.  That  which  the  tree  produces,  or 
brings  forth — its  fruit — is  very  naturally  transfeiTed  to  that  which  a 
man  develops  in  the  form  of  conduct ;  and  that  is  called  "fruit."  "The 
fruit  of  the  Spirit "  is  said  to  be  "  love,"  "joy,"  "  peace,"  and  what  not. 
And  things  that  are  unfruitful,  by  contrary,  are  worthless.  "  The  un- 
fruitful works  of  darkness"  are  such  works,  or  disclosures,  as  are  with- 
out profit ;  without  juice,  as  it  were ;  without  benefit,  sustenance,  good- 
ness. 

"The  works  of  darkness  " — ^this  is  the  phrase  for  which  I  have  select- 
ed the  passage ;  for  I  wish  to-night  to  speak  on  the  subject  of  Night 
and  Darkness.     "  Have  no  fellowship  with  the  works  of  darkness." 

Light  and  darJc  are  employed  in  the  word  of  God  to  signify  good 
and  evil;  and,  again,  sin  and  obedience,  vii'tue  and  vice,  right  and 
wrong.  They  have  passed  so  perfectly  into  usage  that  "  darkness  "  is 
considered  as  equivalent  to  sin,  and  "  light "  is  considered  as  equivalent 
to  vii'tue,  without  any  figure.  Not  only  so,  but  comprehensively  viewed, 
in  Scripture  the  whole  realm  of  evil  is  called  a  kingdom.  All  that  pro- 
ceeds from  men's  passions  and  appetites  is  considered  as  a  kingdom ; 
and  those  people  that  do  evil  are  the  inhabitants  of  the  kingdom. 
So  Satan  is  called  "  the  ruler  of  the  darkness  of  this  world,"  because 
he  is  the  ruler  of  bad  men.  And  so,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  the 
"kingdom  of  light,"  and  the  "household  of  light,"  and  the  "children 
of  light."  Therefore  we  are  commanded  to  let  our  light  shine ;  as  if  it 
had  been  said,  "  Let  your  virtues  shine."  It  was  not  necessary  to  make 
an  intei"pretation  even. 

The  context  carries  this  figure  out  in  a  variety  of  ways.  "Ye 
were  sometimes  darkness" — that  is.  Ye  were  sometimes  wicked — "  but 
now  are  ye  light  in  the  Lord  :  walk  as  children  of  light,"  "  and  have 
no  fellowship  with  the  unfruitful  works  of  darkness,  but  rather  reprove 

SiTNUAT  EvENTNG,  April  24, 1870.  Lesson  :  Ern.  V,  1-16.  Hno? s  (Pljinoutli  Colleotion) : 
Ko8. 109,  606,  1353. 


120  mOET  AND  DARKNESS. 

tliem  ;  for  it  is  a  shame  even  to  speak  of  those  things  which  are  done 
of  them  in  secret.  But  all  things  that  are  reproved  are  made  manifest 
by  the  light ;  for  whatsoever  doth  make  manifest  is  light.  Wherefoi'e 
he  saith,  Awake  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise  from  the  dead,  and  Chi'ist 
shall  give  thee  light." 

Why  did  such  a  use  of  terms  come  into  play  ?  Was  it  accidental  ? 
Did  it  merely  happen  so  ?  And  then,  having  received  a  start, 
was  it  copied,  so  that  at  last  it  becomes  common  usage  ?  For  it  is  not 
peculiar  to  either  Scripture  language  or  to  our  own.  Neither  have  we 
borrowed  it  from  Scripture  alone.  It  belongs  to  all  languages ;  and,  as 
far  as  it  can  be  traced,  it  is  peculiar  to  all  nations  from  then-  very  earli- 
est days.  It  may  be  said  that  as  far  as  literatm*e  inteiprets  human  hab- 
its, the  race  has  been  accustomed,  from  its  earliest  infancy,  in  all  lan- 
guages, and  under  all  circumstances,  to  regard  darkness  as  the  equiva- 
lent of  misconduct,  and  light  as  the  equivalent  of  right  conduct ;  so 
that  if  there  is  any  such  thing  as  a  natural  term,  those  are  natural  terms. 
Light  and  virtue,  and  darkness  and  wickedness,  are  convertible  terms, 
the  world  over,  and  through  all  time. 

How,  then,  did  it  haj^pen  ?  Was  this  a  grand  chance,  or  is  there 
some  connection  between  these  things?  Is  darkness  congenial  to 
wickedness,  and  productive  of  wickedness,  more  than  light  is?  Do 
men  sin  easier,  more,  worse,  in  darkness  than  in  light  ?  Is  there  any 
natural  principle  involved  here  ?     Yes — most  certainly,  yes. 

Let  us  look  at  the  normal  uses  of  darkness  and  of  night.  It  is  very 
difficult  to  say  much  about  them.  It  is  difficult  to  say  anything  about 
creation.  It  is  difficult  to  say  why  it  is  as  it  is.  The  moment  you  be- 
gin to  ask  why,  there  is  no  end  to  it.  You  might  say,  "  Why  are 
men  created  to  average  five  feet  ten,  or  eight?  Why  are  they  not 
made  twenty  feet  ?  There  is  no  end  to  whys  in  the  matter  of  creation. 
Why  it  is  that  full  one-third  of  one's  time  is  for  death ;  why  it  is 
that  of  every  twenty-foiu*  hours  there  are  eight  hours  of  substantial 
death,  no  man  can  say  ;  but  so  it  is.  It  takes  eight  hours  to  wind  up 
the  watch — that  is,  man.  And  experience  teaches  us  that  during  that 
time  of  sleep  darkness  is  beneficial — chiefly  in  this  regard,  that  it  puts 
everything  to  stillness;  that  it  withdraws  excitement;  that  it  leaves 
the  whole  physical  system,  and  the  whole  nervous  system,  quiescent ; 
that  it  leaves  it  in  just  the  state  in  which  the  peculiar  function  of  as- 
similation which  goes  on  during  wholesome  sleep,  finds  its  most 
auspicious  cu'cumstances.  Darkness,  to  this  extent,  therefore,  is  a  ben- 
efit. It  is  medicinal,  in  that  it  withdraws  excitement,  and  gives  full  1 
opportunity  for  rest,  and  for  that  recuperation  which  comes  by  rest  j 
This  is  what  it  was  designed  for,  in  the  economy  of  providence. 

But  in  undue  continuance,  darkness  is  depressing  to  the  physical  j 


NIGHT  AND  DARKNESS.  121 

state.  The  amount  of  knowledge  now  collected  on  this  subject  is  such 
as  to  leave  it  without  a  question.  Outside  of  its  normal  uses,  and  be- 
yond a  certain  extent,  darkness  is  unhealthy.  Men  are  not  strong  and 
wholesome  who  live  from  day  to  day  in  darkness,  and  work  in  dark- 
ness. Men  that  dwell  in  unventilated  and  unlighted  dwellings,  are 
never  robust,  and  never  have  that  peculiar  stamina  coming  from  light. 

It  is  with  trees  just  as  it  is  with  men.  A  forest-grown  tree  ;  a  tree 
that  is  not  sound  from  top  to  bottom ;  a  tree  that  nas  not  grown,  and 
become  seasoned,  as  it  were,  in  the  sun,  is  never  so  tough,  is  never  so 
elastic,  is  never  such  good  timber,  as  a  pasture-grown  tree. 

Pasture-grown  oak  brings  a  higher  price  in  the  JN'avy  Yards  because 
it  is  stronger  and  more  enduring  for  being  grown  in  the  sunlight. 
And  what  is  true  of  timber,  is  just  as  true  of  men.  Sunlight  men,  who 
have  lived  in  the  sun,  are  sturdier  than  men  who  are  deprived  of  the 
sunlight.  And  statistics  show  that  men  who  hve  in  north  rooms,  in 
rooms  facing  the  north,  in  any  street,  are  more  addicted  to  illness  than 
men  who  live  in  rooms  facing  in  the  other  direction.  It  seems  as 
though  this  was  carrying  things  too  far.  Not  at  all.  Statistics  show 
that  among  men  in  unsunned  quarters  of  barracks  ijt  hospitals,  there  is 
some  twenty  per  cent,  more  mortality  than  in  quarters  where  the 
sun  rests  the  greater  part  of  the  day.  The  fact  ib,  che  best  medicine  in 
the  world  is  sunlight.  The  best  doctor  is  the  wun  ;  and  he  does  not 
charge  anything  for  giving  the  medicine  either.  There  is  nothing  bet- 
ter for  health  than  the  sun.  And  there  is  nothing  worse  for  health 
than  the  want  of  the  sun. 

So  that  if  you  look  at  it  purely  as  a  physical  question,  you  find  that 
there  is  a  reason  why  light  should  be  assimilated  to  virtue.  It  produ- 
ces health  of  body,  just  as  virtue  produces  health  of  mind.  And  dark- 
ness, on  the  other  hand,  like  sin,  aggi-avates  disease,  depresses  the  vital 
functions,  and  retai-ds  recovery.  There  is  a  certain  analogy  in  these 
things ;  and  there  is  a  reason  in  then-  very  physical  operation  why  these 
terms  should  be  used  as  they  are. 

But  there  are  other  very  important  results  of  a  moral  kind  connect- 
ed with  darkness,  and  therefore  with  night  which  is  the  kingdom 
of  darkness.  It  is  capable  of  producing  even  more  depressing  effects 
upon  the  moral  nature  than  on  the  physical.  The  dangerous  passions 
of  men  are  held  in  check  mainly  by  those  elements  which  exist  strong- 
ly and  most  generally  in  publicity.  Fear,  shame,  self-respect,  and  self- 
interest — these  four  elements  check  our  basilar  nature.  For,  at  the 
bottom,  we  are  animals.  And  how  to  keep  the  animal  under ;  how  to 
restrain  it  within  its  service-bounds ;  how  to  prevent  its  riding ;  how- 
to  keep  back  cruelty,  and  cunning,  and  all  forms  of  passion,  and  all. 


122  mOHT  AIW  BARKFESS. 

gross  and  sensual  appetites — how  to  do  this,  is  the  work  of  civilization. 
It  is  the  teaching  of  time. 

Fear  is  a  powerful  repellant  of  temptation,  a  powerful  restraint ; 
and  with  many  natures  it  is  the  only  one.  As  we  go  down  on  the 
scale,  fear  becomes  more  operative  ;  and  as  we  go  up  on  the  scale,  and 
as  civilization  and  moral  cultui'e  increase,  fear  becomes  less  and  less  op- 
ei'ative,  and  less  and  less  heeded.  But  in  regard  to  the  great  mass  of 
men,  anything  that  breaks  the  realm  of  fear  is  unsalutaiy  and  danger- 
ous, because  it  takes  off  one  of  the  hoops  that  hold  the  barrel  together 
in  which  the  evil  spirits  are  confined. 

Shame,  too,  is  a  thing  of  publicity.  There  could  be  no  shame  if 
there  was  no  ear  to  hear ;  if  there  was  no  eye  to  see  ;  if  there  was  no 
other  mind  to  know.  For  shame  is  a  sense  or  feeling  produced  in  the 
soul  of  a  man  by  the  consciousness  of  other  people's  opinions  of  him. 
And  this,  in  its  veiy  nature,  requires  disclosure,  development.  And 
any  circumstances  which  should  pi'event  exposure  and  development, 
would  remove  the  tendency  to  shame. 

Self-respect  is  very  largely  dependent,  also,  upon  the  opinions  of 
others — though  not  so  much  as  is  shame.  Self-interest,  too,  is  largely 
dependent  upon  the  opinions  of  men.  Our  prosperity,  our  standing, 
depends  upon  men's  thoughts  of  us,  to  a  very  great  extent.  Certainly 
this  is  so  with  the  lower  class  of  men  ;  that  is,  uneducated  and  unde- 
veloped men. 

Now,  darkness  tends  to  relieve  men  from  the  pressure  of  all  these 
restraints.  In  darkness  men  can  hide ;  and  therefore  they  are  not 
afi'aid  that  they  will  be  detected.  No  man  can  reel  in  the  street  by 
day  and  not  be  seen.  At  night  he  can — or  he  thinks  he  can,  if  he  can- 
not. Men  cannot  do  works  of  wickedness  by  day,  openly,  without 
being  known,  and  being  put  to  shame  ;  but  at  night  they  can — they 
think  they  can.  That  is  the  time  for  concealment,  when  the  sun  hides, 
and  virtuous  men  go  to  sleep.  At  night,  when  good  men  and  all  re- 
sponsibility are  within  doors,  then  out  of  doors  bad  men  ramp  and 
riot.  Now  comes  the  kingdom  of  darkness.  Now  they  have  then* 
chance.  All  day  they  have  been  afraid  ;  all  day  their  interests  would 
not  let  them  out ;  but  as  the  sun  has  gone  down,  and  is  out  of  the  way^ 
and  the  children  of  light  are  out  of  the  way  with  it,  they  mean  to  hold 
■carnival.  And  they  do.  And  night  is  found  to  be  a  time  peculiar  in 
this  regard,  that  it  sets  loose  the  lower  passions  of  men,  and  tends  to 
do  it,  and  has  a  powerful  tendency  to  do  it.  There  is  a  permission  of 
wickedness  in  the  night  that  there  is  not  in  the  day.  There  is  not  only 
the  provocative  to  wrong  doing,  but  there  is  a  guard,  a  conservative 
influence,  thrown  around  about  it  at  night,  that  is  not  thrown  about  it 
in  the  exposing  hom's  of  noon-day. 


mOHT  AND  DARKNESS.  123 

Night  and  dai-kness  suspend  men's  Labors,  and  give  tlicm  release,  so 
that  they  are  able  to  congregate.  And  this,  joined  to  the  foregoing 
consideration,  shows  why  wickedness  multiplies  itself  so  fearfully  at 
night.  During  the  day,  industries  are  being  carried  on,  and  thousands 
of  men  are  earning  their  daily  pittance  in  the  shop.  And  work  is  a 
great  benetit.  Men,  while  at  work,  are  orderly.  They  are  being  whole- 
somely drilled.  Their  energies  are  concentrated  on  useful  purposes. 
But  at  night  all  their  energies  are  diverted  from  these  legitimate  chan- 
nels, and  are  apt  to  be  concentrated  upon  their  self-indulgence.  For 
men  that  toil,  particularly  men  that  live  by  toil,  and  are  in  some  degree 
of  circumscription  and  limitation  of  means,  feel  as  though  they  had  a 
right  at  night  to  pay  themselves  for  what  they  hav-e  gone  through 
during  the  day.  They  have  worked  hard;  they  have  been  tem- 
perate and  under  others'  control ;  and  at  night  they  say,  "  Nobody 
is  our  master  now.  We  have  eaten  our  plain  fare,  and  performed  our 
hard  work;  and  now  we  will  pay  ourselves  for  it.  Men  have  strong 
tendencies  at  night  to  react  from  regular  and  virtuous  method  i/ito 
license;  and  as  they  have  the  liberty  of  congregation,  as  they  go  out 
and  gather  together  in  their  places  of  resort,  whether  they  are  vicious 
or  vutuous,  they  form  a  public  sentiment  among  themselves,  and  up- 
hold each  other.  Men  in  hundreds  indulge  in  language  that  they  do 
not  when  they  are  alone  or  in  mixed  society.  They  indulge  in  prac- 
tices which  would  seem  loose  and  unvirtuous  to  them  if  they  were  in 
promiscuous  assemblies.  Men  herd  together,  the  good  with  the  good, 
and  the  bad  with  the  bad  ;  and  night  is  the  time  for  bad  men  to  come 
together,  not  only  because  they  are  shielded,  but  because  they  are  re- 
leased, and  have  liberty  of  congregation. 

As  a  general  thing,  under  such  cu'cumstances,  the  bad  men  in  a 
community  are  more  influential  at  night,  and  in  the  circumstances  which 
night  produces,  than  good  men.  There  are  certain  situations  in  which 
good  men  are  by  far  more  influential  than  bad  men  ;  but  they  are  usu- 
ally exigencies.  They  are  usually  times  in  which  the  public  sentiment 
calls  for  the  exhibition  of  nobler  and  more  manly  traits.  But  the  mo- 
ment you  step  aside,  the  moment  you  step  into  the  crevices  of  life,  and 
into  the  abnormal  ways  of  life,  bad  men  rule  it  over  good  men.  In  a 
crowd  of  roiits,  a  simple,  plam,  truth-speaking,  moderate-tongued  man 

(is  nothing.  He  is  negatived.  It  is  the  violent,  the  noisy,  the  impu- 
dent man  that  there  carries  the  day.  At  night,  where  men  are  gathered 
together  in  disreputable  places,  they  that  are  the  worst  are  ajit  to  be  the 
most  influential,  and  to  lead  the  rest.  They  give  tone  to  the  society, 
currency  to  its  maxims,  and  stimulus  to  its  temptations. 

I  And  therefore  it  is  said,  I  think,  in  the  next  chapter  of  this  very 
book,    "  We  Avi'estle,  not  against  flesh  and  blood,  but  against  prin- 


124  NIGHT  AND  DARKNESS. 

cipalities,  againyt  powers,  against  the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this 
world."  In  this  world  they  are  "the  rulers  of  darkness"  that  are  the 
bad  men ;  and  there  is,  as  it  were,  a  great  prince  of  darkness  that  rules 
over  aU  darkness,  and  all  bad  men  that  are  bred  in  darkness. 

There  is  a  curious  phenomenon  of  moral  change  in  society.  Eveiy 
twelve  hours,  if  we  will  watch  the  thermometer,  we  shall  find  that  the 
temperature  of  the  day  regularly  changes,  rising  in  the  day-time,  and 
going  down  at  night.  Taking  the  year  through,  that  is  the  normal 
condition  or  range  of  the  thermometer.  And  there  is  an  analogy  or 
parallel  to  it  in  moral  temperature.  We  shall  find  that  the  virtue  and 
the  moral  feelings  ascend  upon  the  scale  in  the  day-time,  and  de- 
scend on  the  scale  at  night. 

If  you  could  interpret  the  sight  or  the  thought  of  the  guardian  an- 
gels of  these  two  great  cities,  how  different  would  be  their  experience 
during  the  day  from  their  experience  during  the  night !  As  they 
hang  poised  over  the  great  out-lying  Babylon  all  day,  they  see  in 
the  main,  useful  industries.  They  see  some  violence ;  they  see  much 
craft ;  they  see  strifes  of  selfishness  and  rivalries  of  ambition  and  of 
pride,  to  be  sure  ; '  and  for  the  most  part  the  sins  that  they  see  are  of 
this  class.  But  when  the  sun  goes  down,  and  sheeted  darkness  comes 
upon  the  face  of  the  city,  how  does  the  whole  aspect  change  !  How  does 
the  great  caldron  begin  to  seethe  and  bubble  with  another  class  of  sins  ! 
Now  how  does  drunkenness,  how  does  lewdness,  how  do  all  the  crimes 
of  treachery,  pelf,  sneaking  theft,  and  burglaries,  begin  to  come  forth ! 
And  the  angel,  looking  on  the  sight,  sees  a  spectacle  of  lower  life.  The 
whole  temperature  is  gone  down.  The  kind  of  deed  is  changed.  And 
as  at  night  heat  disappears  with  the  light,  and  the  temperature  sinks 
physically,  so  in  the  community  the  moral  temperature  goes  down  at 
night. 

So  much  for  the  efiects  of  darkness  and  of  night.  Now  for  some 
applications.     And  at  the  outset  let  me  make  some  milder  ones. 

1.  It  is  a  very  desirable  thing  (and  this  for  those  whom  it  may  con- 
cern ;  for  those  that  are  beginning  life) — it  is  a  very  desirable  thing  to 
begin  life  with  nature,  and  run  parallel  to  nature.  For  a  man's  strength 
is  in  the  proportion  in  which  he  runs  parallel  with  great  natural  laws, 
and  with  God's  gi-eat  providence.  He  is  strong,  he  goes  fast,  who  goes 
in  the  Gulf-stream  ;  and  he  sails  slow  who  sails  against  it.  And  greijt 
natural  laws  are  streams  that  expedite  men. 

As  a  general  thing,  men  can  control  then*  time  ;  and  the  time  for 
study  and  for  work  is  the  day  ;  while  the  time  for  social  recreation  and 
rest  is  at  night.  The  general  rule,  though  there  may  be  occasional  excep- 
tions to  it,  for  eveiy  young  man  and  every  young  maiden  entering  life, 
is,  X>o  your  work  in  the  day  time.     Do  not  turn  yourself  into  a  stu- 


mGET  AND  DARKNESS.  125 

dent  at  night.  Tlie  practice  has  some  charms,  because  we  read  in  his- 
tory and  in  Uterature  about  the  midnight  oil.  The  worst  oil  that>  a  man 
ever  burnt  was  midnight  oil.  It  wastes  society.  It  not  only  induces 
artificial  excitement  during  that  late  hour  just  preceding  sleep,  which 
makes  sleep  less  wholesome  and  less  nutritive,  but  in  every  way  de- 
ranges a  man's  habit.  If  a  minister  studies  late  Saturday  night,  or  if 
he  works  late  at  night  during  all  the  week,  you  may  be  perfectly  sure 
that  he  cannot  be  a  robust  wholesome  man  all  round.  I  can  detect 
the  tendencies  induced  by  habitual  night-work.  And,  although  the 
night,  when  everything  is  still,  is  the  only  working  time  for  hard-run 
professional  men,  frequently,  yet  working  at  night  is  always  pernicious, 
and  should  never  be  resorted  to  except  as  a  choice  between  evils,  even 
under  such  circumstances. 

I  think  the  judgments  formed  at  night  are  never  so  solid  and  fresh 
as  judgments  formed  in  the  morning.  If  in  the  morning  a  man  is  with- 
out clarity,  if  he  is  despondent,  if  he  is  dull,  if  he  is  unnerved,  you 
may  be  sure  that  he  is  living  wrong.  For  the  order  of  nature  is,  that 
a  man  should  rise  from  his  bed  in  the  morning  as  birds  rise,  singing, 
and  in  perfect  health.  A  man  rises  buoyant,  and  has  his  best  hours  in 
the  early  day.  For  although  perhaps  the  fancy  may  not  be  so  brilliant 
in  the  early  day,  the  judgment  is  better.  The  conclusions  and  deter- 
minations which  a  man  forms  in  the  early  day,  are  apt  to  be  sounder 
and  safer  than  those  which  he  forms  at  night.  Fancy  for  the  night ; 
judgment  for  the  day.  And  I  would  say  to  every  young  person  whom 
it  concerns,  Form,  if  it  is  a  possible  thing,  the  habit  of  doing  your 
study  in  the  day  time,  and  reserve  your  nights  for  lighter  tasks,  and 
keep  early  hours  with  your  bed.  You  do  not  profit,  (I  do  not  care  who 
your  exemplar  is,)  by  departing  from  the  great  influences  and  laws  of 
nature.  There  is  many  and  many  a  man  that  wears  out  prematurely, 
because,  without  one  single  unviituous  or  vicious  habit,  he  grinds  his 
life  out  by  night-work. 

2,  I  protest  against  the  use  of  night  for  social  pleasures,  to  the  ex- 
tent which,  in  cities  and  in  fashionable  circles  especially,  it  is  prostitut- 
ed. Pleasures,  even  within  moral  bounds,  are  not  wholesome  in  the  un- 
timely hours  of  night.  The  turning  of  night  into  day,  the  creation  of 
artificial  lights  ;  the  use  of  the  day  again,  amidst  all  its  glare  and  din  of 
excitements,  for  sleep — these  things  are  not  wholesome.  They  are  not 
wholesome  either  to  the  body  or  to  the  soul. 

Men  laugh  at  the  old  fashioned  New  England  custom  of  going  out 
to  tea  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  getting  home  again  at  seven  in 
the  evenmg,  and  going  to  bed  at  nine;  but  the  men  that  that  custom 
made  were  not  to  be  laughed  at.  The  men  that  are  wearing  out 
ai-e  city  men.     It  seldom  happens  that  city  men  breed  strong  men. 


126  mOHT  AND  DARKNESS. 

For,  the  city,  like  the  grindstone,  takes  off  the  edge  and  the  very  steel 
from  the  sword.  And  the  country  has  to  send  in  its  new  men  all  the 
time.  No  city  could  perpetuate  its  power  and  maintain  its  influence,  if 
it  were  not  for  the  continual  recuperation  of  its  populations  by  the 
transmission  of  country-bred  men,  who  have  kept  right  hours  and  ob- 
served wholesome  natural  laws.  They  come  in  to  make  up  for  the 
waste  and  the  consumption  that  arise  from  city  practices. 

Now,  it  is  not  wrong  in  the  same  sense  that  burglary  is  wrong,  for 
a  person  to  go  to  entertainments  at  ten  o'clock  at  night ;  but  it  is  wrong. 
At  ten  o'clock  the  festival  begins,  and  by  twelve  or  one  o'clock  it  is  at 
its  height.  And  then  comes  the  infernal  feeding.  And  all  men  at 
night  are  pigs.  At  any  rate,  my  observation  of  the  bibulous  and  gus- 
tatory habits  of  men  away  from  home,  with  curious  viands,  is  such  that 
I  cannot  but  feel  that  the  lower  nature  gets  the  ascendancy. 

Have  you  ever  seen  men  on  a  steamboat,  where  the  table  was  spread, 
stand  around  the  door  ready  to  make  a  plunge  and  a  rush  for  the  table 
the  moment  an  opportunity  was  given  ?  Have  you  seen  how  men  at 
parties  take  pains  to  get  the  most  favorable  situations  at  the  table  ? 
Have  you  seen  how  men  stretch  and  lean  over  in  order  that  they  may 
fai-e  the  best  ?  Men,  too,  that  are  well  fed  at  home,  and  that  do  not 
seem  to  need  any  special  ft^eding — have  you  seen  how  they  gormandize, 
how  they  stuff  and  fill,  and  forget  eveiything  but  to  eat,  and  eat,  right  and 
left,  and  eat  something  of  everything — and  this  at  twelve  or  one  o'clock 
at  night  ?  And  good  men  they  are — deacons,  elders,  class-leaders,  min- 
isters— all  good  men !  But  when  a  man  leaves  his  home  at  ten  o'clock 
at  night  to  go  out  for  amusement,  and  takes  his  second  supper,  at  one 
or  two  o'clock,  what  would  you  expect  of  him  but  that  he  shoiald  make 
everything  consistent,  and  the  whole  abominable  mess  a  violation  of 
natural  law?  And  in  the  world  of  fashion  they  keep  this  unnatural 
excitement  up  to  most  absm-d  extents. 

By  two,  or  three,  or  four  o'clock  they  begin  to  go  home  ;  and  then 
they  retire.  About  the  time  they  ought  to  get  up  they  go  to  bed. 
Now  comes  the  restless  sleep  of  the  forenoon.  And  then,  about  ten  or 
eleven  o'clock,  dreary,  and  headachy,  and  desponding,  they  get  up  most 
dolefully  to  talk  about  their  enjoyments ! 

The  old  fables  say  that  there  were  creatures — salamanders — ^that 
could  live  in  the  fire.  I  believe  it.  For  I  have  seen  persons — men  and 
women — that  lived  in  a  round  of  parties  nearly  every  night  for  ten, 
fifteen,  twenty,  thirty,  forty,  fifty,  sixty  years,  until  they  were  perfectly 
drained,  perfectly  used  up,  and  had  to  go  to  Saratoga  or  Newport  to 
o-et  over  pleasure.  They  had  enjoyed  themselves  so  much  that  they 
were  all  run  down.    Thek  energies  were  all  wasted.    Then-  vitality  was 


HIGHT  AND  DARKNESS.  127 

all  gone.     Their  nerves  were  unstrung.     Theii-  digestion  was  impaii'ed. 
Their  whole  system  AV^as  marked  for  disease. 

And  consider  what  a  disreputable  thing  this  is.  Consider  what  a 
use  it  is  of  one's  refinement,  civilization,  wealth,  social  position,  to 
make  them  the  instruments  for  destroying  his  body,  ruining  his  nerves, 
taxing  and  racking  and  di-aining  his  system,  and  going  on  every  single 
winter  in  this  preposterous  conversion  of  night  into  day,  and  day  into 
night.  Talk  about  a  thief  being  wicked — a  man  that  is  habitually 
practicing  such  violence,  although  he  does  not  sin  against  society,  sins 
against  the  laws  of  God  in  his  own  body,  and  will  have  a  day -of -judg- 
ment account  to  give  for  it.  It  is  an  abomination  before  God,  and 
ought  to  be  an  abomination  before  every  decent  person. 

There  have  been,  in  this  congregation,  many  who  have  sinned  in 
this  way  unwittingly.  I  have  not  been  faithful  to  my  duty  in  this 
matter.  I  ought  to  have  told  you  these  things  before.  But  if,  after 
this,  the  young  people  of  this  church  carry  sitting  up  at  parties  to  the 
excess  of  which  I  have  sj^oken,  I  do  not  mean  that  it  shall  be  because 
they  are  ignorant  of  what  I  think  about  it.  I  want  them  to  understand 
distinctly  that  I  regard  it  as  a  gross  violation.  These  dancings  and 
feastings  and  fooleries  at  night,  besides  being  wicked  on  the  ground  of 
the  waste  of  time,  are  utterly  unpardonable  as  being  a  sin  against 
health,  and  against  the  great  functions  of  life  for  which  you  were  cre- 
ated of  God.  Did  he  create  you  to  be  a  thistle-down  ?  Were  you  born 
to  be  butterflies?  Were  you  made  to  be  mere  triflers?  Is  there  noth- 
ing for  yourself,  nothing  for  mankind,  nothing  for  the  glory  of  God, 
that  is  to  try  and  task  your  energies  in  this  life  ?  If  you  are  so  using 
yourselves,  or  prostituting  yourselves,  as  to  turn  day  into  night,  and 
night  into  day,  there  wUl  be  a  burning  account  for  you  to  render  by- 
and-by.  There  is  many  and  many  a  dissipated  one  that  will  sufier  ret- 
ribution not  only  for  mdulgence  in  disallowable  things,  but  for  indul- 
gence in  allowable  things  in  disallowable  hours. 

I  can  say  these  things,  when  some  others  could  not,  because  I  am 
known,  and  want  to  be  known,  as  a  friend  of  liberty,  and  a  friend  of 
pleasure.  I  rebuke  the  young  who  would  turn  monks.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve in  solitude.  I  do  not  believe  in  melancholy.  I  believe  in  gayety 
and  joyousness.  And  I  believe  that  the  closer  a  man  keeps  to  the  laws 
of  nature,  the  happier  he  will  be,  and  ought  to  be.  Therefore,  being 
on  the  side  of  liberty,  though  not  on  the  side  of  license,  being  on  the 
eide  of  wholesome,  manly  pleasm-es,  and  freedom  in  the  indulgence  of 
I  them,  I  stand,  and  have  authority  to  stand,  and  say.  When  you  perveit 
[nature  in  this  way,  it  is  utterly  wicked  and  utterly  abominable. 

3.  There  is  another  application  which,  although  partial,  is  of  gi-eat 
[range  and  of  supreme  importance,    addi-essing  itself  to   doctors,  t« 


128  NIGHT  AND  DARKNESS. 

gnarcTians.  and  to  parents,  chiefly.  I  refer  to  the  practice  of  allowing 
childieu  to  go  out  at  night  into  the  streets,  if  in  cities ;  or,  if  in  the 
country,  allowing  children  to  find  their  companions  at  night,  and  their 
pleasures  at  night,  away  from  parental  inspection.  If  I  wanted  to 
make  the  destruction  of  a  child  sure,  I  would  give  him  unwatched  lib- 
erty after  dark.  You  cannot  do  a  thing  that  will  be  so  neai-ly  a  guar- 
antee of  a  child's  damnation  as  to  let  him  have  the  liberty  of  the  city, 
or  the  liberty  of  the  town,  after  nightfall,  without  your  inspection,  or 
the  inspection  of  some  person  who  has  the  right  to  govern  his  conduct. 
It  is  invariably  true  that  under  such  circumstances  children  will  fall 
under  the  influence  and  dominion  of  persons  that  wall  taint  then-  blood ; 
that  will  taint  then*  imagination ;  that  will  untie  the  bonds  of  all  equi- 
table and  just  authority ;  that  will  make  them  deceitful,  and  lead  them 
to  seek  their  pleasures  clandestinely.  And  before  you  know  it,  they 
will  be  specked,  and  often  rotten  to  the  core. 

I  do  not  like  to  sow  the  seeds  of  suspicion  in  the  minds  of  parents 
about  then-  children ;  but  there  are  thousands  and  thousands  of  parents 
in  these  cities  who  think,  who  know,  that  their  children  "  never  lie  " ; 
and  yet  then-  tongue  is  like  a  bended  bow.  They  think  then*  children 
never  diink ;  but  there  is  not  a  fashionable  saloon  within  a  mile  of 
their  homes,  that  the  boys  are  not  perfectly  familiar  with.  They  think 
their  children  never  do  unviiluous  things  ;  and  yet  they  reek  with  un- 
vii'tue.  There  are  many  young  men  who,  when  they  return  to  their 
father's  house,  are  supposed  to  have  been  making  visits  to  this  or  that 
person.     It  is  a  mere  guise. 

The  practice  of  allowing  children  to  go  out  at  night  to  find  their 
own  companions,  and  their  own  places  of  amusement,  may  leave  one 
in  twenty  unscathed,  and  without  danger ;  but  I  think  that  nineteen  out 
of  twenty  fall  down  wounded  or  destroyed.  And  if  there  is  one  thing 
that  should  be  more  imperative  than  another,  it  is  that  your  children 
shall  be  at  home  at  night ;  or  that,  if  they  are  abroad,  you  shall  be 
abroad  with  them.  There  may  be  things  that  it  is  best  that  you  should 
do  for  your  childi'en,  though  you  would  not  do  them  for  yourselves ; 
but  they  ought  not  to  go  anywhere  at  night,  to  see  sights,  or  to  take 
pleasure,  unless  you  can  go  with  them,  until  they  are  grown  to  man's 
estate,  and  their  habits  are  formed.  And  nothing  is  more  certain  than 
that  to  grant  the  child  liberty  to  go  outside  of  the  parental  roof  and  its 
restraints  in  the  darkness  of  night,  is  bad,  and  only  bad,  and  that  con- 
tinually. 

Do  not  suppose  that  a  child  is  hurt  only  when  he  is  broken  down. 
I  have  quite  a  taste  in  china  cups,  and  such  things.  I  like  a  beau- 
tiful cup.  And  I  have  noticed  that  when  the  handle  gets  knocked 
off  from  a  cup  of  mine,  that  cup  is  spoiled  for  me.     When  I  look  at  it 


mOUT  AND  DARKNESS.  129 

afterwards  I  never  see  the  beauty,  but  always  see  the  broken  handle. 
If  I  have  a  beautiful  mi'Tor,  and  it  is  cracked,  it  may  still  answer  all 
the  purposes  that  I  want  a  mirror  for,  to  reveal  my  beauty ;  but  never- 
theless it  is  spoiled  for  my  eye.  There  is  that  crack,  and  when  I  look 
into  the  glass  I  never  see  myself  half  so  much  as  I  see  the  crack.  Its 
perfectness  is  gone.  In  the  matter  of  beauty,  a  speck  or  a  blemish  is 
more  than  all  besides,  and  takes  away  the  pleasure  of  all  besides.  And 
it  does  not  requke  that  a  child  should  be  broken  down,  to  be  made  use- 
less by  his  exposures  to  temptation.  I  aver  that  there  are  many  things 
which  no  man  can  learn  without  being  damaged  by  them  all  his  life 
long.  There  are  many  thoughts  which  ought  never  to  find  a  passage 
through  a  man's  brain.  As  an  eel,  if  he  were  to  wiggle  across  your 
cai-pet,  would  leave  a  slime  which  no  brush  could  take  off;  so  there 
are  many  things  which  no  person  can  know,  and  ever  recover  from  the 
knowledge  of. 

There  are  minions  of  Satan  that  go  around  with  hidden  pictures  and 
books  under  the  lappels  of  then*  coat,  showing  them  to  the  young,  with 
glozing,  lustful,  hideous,  infernal  scenes  represented,  which  once  to  have 
seen  is  to  remember,  as  if  they  were  burned  in  with  the  fire  of  helL 
And  I  do  not  believe  there  is  a  man  in  my  hearing  who  will  not  bear 
testimony,  if  he  ever  heard  a  salacious  song,  where  wickedness  and 
nastiness  were  sheathed  in  wit,  that  he  regrets  to-day,  and  will  regret  to 
the  day  of  his  death,  that  he  ever  heard  it.  There  are  men  that  have 
turned  from  wickedness  who  look  back  with  unfailing  mortification  and 
regret  upon  the  fact  that  certain  things  have  happened,  and  that  they 
know  certain  things. 

I  do  not  believe  in  bringing  up  the  young  to  know  life,  as  it  is  said. 
I  should  just  as  soon  think  of  bringing  up  a  child  by  cutting  some  of 
the  cords  of  his  body,  and  lacerating  his  nei-ves,  and  scarring  and  tat- 
tooing him,  and  making  an  Indian  of  him'  outright,  as  an  element  of 
beauty, — as  I  should  think  of  develo2)iiig  his  manhood  by  biinging  him 
up  to  see  life — to  see  its  abominable  lusts  ;  to  see  its  hideous  incai'na- 
tions  of  wit ;  to  see  its  infernal  wickedness ;  to  see  its  extravagant  and 
degi'ading  scenes ;  to  see  its  miserable  carnalities ;  to  see  its  imagina- 
tions set  on  fire  of  hell ;  to  see  all  those  temj^tations  and  delusions 
which  lead  to  perdition.  Nobody  gets  over  the  sight  of  these  things. 
They  who  see  them  always  cany  scars.  They  are  burned.  And  though 
they  live,  they  live  as  men  that  have  been  burned.  The  scai-  remains. 
1  And  to  let  the  young  go  out  where  the  glozing  courtesan  appears  ;  to 
let  them  go  where  the  lustful  frequenter  of  dens  of  iniquity  can  come 
\fithin  theii"  reach ;  to  let  them  go  where  the  young  gather  together 
to  cheer  with  bad  wit ;  to  let  them  go  where  they  will  be  exposed  to 
such  temptations — why,  a  parent  is  insane  that  will  do  it.    To  say,  "A 


I 


130  mOHT  AND  DARKNESS. 

child  must  be  hardened ;  he  has  got  to  get  tough  somehow,  and  you 
may  as  well  put  him  in  the  vat,  and  let  him  tan  " — is  that  family  edu- 
cation ?  Is  that  Christian  imvture  %  Is  that  bringing  a  child  up  in 
the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord  f 

I  thank  God  for  two  things — yes,  for  a  thousand;  but  for  two 
among  many :  first,  that  I  was  born  and  bred  in  the  country,  of  parents 
that  gave  me  a  sound  constitution  and  a  noble  example.  I  never  can 
pay  back  what  I  got  from  mj'  parents.  If  I  were  to  raise  a  monument 
of  gold  higher  than  heaven,  it  would  be  no  expression  of  the  debt  of 
gratitude  which  I  owe  to  them,  for  that  which  they  unceasingly  gave, 
by  the  heritage  of  then- body  and  the  heritage  of  their  souls,  to  me. 
And  next  to  that,  I  am  thankful  that  I  was  brought  up  in  ckcumstances 
where  I  never  became  acquainted  with  wickedness.  I  know  a  great 
deal  about  it ;  for  if  I  hear  a  man  say  A,  I  know  the  whole  alphabet  of 
that  man's  life,  by  which  I  can  imagine  all  the  rest.  If  I  see  a  single 
limb,  I  have  the  physiologist's  talent  by  which  I  know  the  whole  struc- 
ture. But  I  never  became  acquainted  with  wickedness  when  I  was 
young,  by  coming  in  contact  with  it.  I  never  was  sullied  in  act,  nor 
in  thought,  nor  in  feeling,  when  I  was  young.  I  grew  up  as  pure  as 
a  woman.  And  I  cannot  express  to  God  the  thanks  which  I  owe  to 
my  mother,  and  to  my  father,  and  to  the  great  household  of  sisters  and 
brothers  among  whom  I  lived.  And  the  secondary  knowledge  of  these 
wicked  things  which  I  have  gained  in  later  life  in  a  professional  way,  I 
gained  under  such  guards  that  it  was  not  harmful  to  me. 

If  you  have  children,  bring  them  up  purely.      Biing  them  up  wit! 
sensitive  delicacy.      Bring  them  up  so  that  they  shall  not  know  the! 
wickedness  that  is  known,  unfortunately,  by  the  greatest  number  of  j 
men. 

And  if  there  are  children  that  are  sometimes  impatient  of  parental! 
restraint,  let  me  say  to  them,  You  do  not  know  what  temptation  youj 
are  under ;  and  if,  held  back  by  your  mother,  if,  held  back  by  your  fa-| 
ther,  you  shall  escape  the  knowledge  of  the  wickedness  that  is  in  the] 
world,  you  wUl  have  occasion,  by-and-by,  to  thank  God  for  that,  more] 
than  for  silver,  or  for  gold,  or  for  houses,  or  for  lands. 

Keep  your  childi'en  at  home  nights.  Oh !  there  is  many  a  sod  that] 
lies  over  the  child  whose  downfiill  began  by  vagrancy  at  night ;  and! 
there  is  many  a  child  whose  heart-breaking  parents  would  give  the! 
world  if  the  sod  did  lie  over  them.  And  oh !  what  a  state  that  is  fori 
chUdi'en  to  come  to,  in  which  the  father  and  the  mother  dread  their  life] 
unspeakably  more  than  their  death  !  What  a  horrible  state  of  things] 
that  is,  where  parents  feel  a  sense  of  relief  in  the  dying  of  their  chil-  j 
di'en !     Take  care  of  your  childen  at  night. 

4.  As  night  and  darkness  are  so  full  of  mischief,  so  in  every  sanita-j 


mOET  AND  DARKNESS.  131 

ry  "worlc  that  we  undertake  in  life,  we  ought  to  act  on  these  great  and 
acknowledged  truths.  Broad  streets,  clean  above  and  below,  with  an 
abundance  of  light,  and  a  judicious  police,  will  do  more  toward  re- 
pressing vice  (though  not  toward  promoting  virtue)  in  cities,  than  all 
the  benevolent  associations  and  churches  put  together.  It  would  be 
impossible  for  all  the  churches  in  the  world  to  reform  against  the  influ- 
ence of  night. 

Therefore,  while  we  preach  the  Gospel,  and  while  we  attempt  to 
reclaim  the  vicious  and  the  wicked  by  means  of  reformatory  associa- 
tions, we  ought  to  join  in  the  application  of  those  great  physical  laws 
which  interpret  life,  and  explain  to  us  that  darkness  and  circumscrip- 
tion are  inevitably  full  of  temptations  which  common  men  are  not  able 
to  rise  up  against  and  resist. 

Broad  open  streets,  where  secrecy  is  impossible,  are  of  the  first  im- 
portance. Let  there  be  light  enough.  It  is  the  worst  economy  in  the 
world  to  light  a  city  as  some  of  the  streets  in  this  city  are  lighted.  I 
wish  the  Alderman  of  the  First  Ward  were  in  my  congregation.  I 
would  ask  him  to  go  through  some  of  these  streets — for  instance  Pine- 
apple street,  from  Hicks  to  Columbia — and  see  what  a  light  there  is 
there.  There  is  but  one  lamp  for  all  that  distance,  so  far  as  I  can  see 
and  d.-rkness  reigns  well  nigh  supreme.  And  in  going  through  the 
city  1  have  seen  many  such  unlighted  streets.  If  a  street  is  narrow 
and  out  of  the  way,  it  seems  to  be  thought  not  worth  while  to  waste 
gas  on  it.  It  is  worth  while.  Every  time  you  multiply  gas  j^osts,  you 
save  the  need  of  schools  and  churches.  It  is  lighting  these  streets,  it 
is  taking  darkness  out  of  them,  that  diminishes  temptations.  And  all 
over  the  city,  not  simply  as  a  sanitaiy  measure,  but  as  a  moral  meas- 
ui'e,  there  ought  to  be  provision  made  for  abundant  air  and  cleanliness 
and  light.  Then,  with  the  good  example  of  virtuous  men,  with  the 
preaching  of  the  Gospel,  and  with  all  the  agencies  of  industry,  the 
population:^  of  our  cities  might  be  healthy,  moral  and  Christian.  But 
we  shall  never  Christianize  cities  till  we  know  how  to  apply  natural 
law  and  material  law  in  connection  with  the  power  of  moral  influences 
and  the  stimuli  of  moral  example. 

These  words  which  I  speak  to-night  are  not  simply  for  those  whom 
they  may  concern,  but  for  all  the  teachers  of  the  community.  Doctors; 
are  ordained  to  teach  men  the  laws  of  health.  They  know  better  than 
any  others,  perhaps,  how  much  morality  canies  health,  and  how  much 
immorality  carries  sickness.  And  it  is  for  them  to  teach  sanitary 
measures,  and  anticipate  temptations  and  sickness.  The  duty  of  edu- 
cators is  not  simply  to  teach  the  text  of  the  books.  Their  duty  is  to 
bring  up  the  young  to  virtue  and  honor  and  immortality ;  and  this  duty 
ought  to  be  imposed  upon  them.     And  ministers  and  philanthi-opists 


132  NIGHT  AND  DARKNESS. 

also  have  a  duty' in  this  matter.  I  take  to  myself  blame  for  not  having 
spoken  on  this  subject  before.  I  know  not  why  I  have  not.  It  slipped 
my  thought  until  cu-cumstances  lately  brought  it  to  me.  But  now  I 
bear  my  testimony.  I  have  examined  before  you  the  conditions  of 
bodily  health,  and  pointed  out  the  sources  of  temptation.  And  it  is 
the  duty  of  ministers  to  raise  their  voices  on  such  subjects.  It  is  their 
duty  not  any  less  to  preach  dogma  and  doctrine — there  is  a  time  for 
everything,  and  so  there  is  for  dogma  and  doctrine ;  but  they  ought 
also  to  preach  the  application  of  these  great  sanitary  laws  and  their 
great  moral  influences  to  the  people. 

If  all  the  churches  would  contrive  to  make  perpetual  Lent  the  year 
round,  I  am  sure  that  vutue  would  flourish  and  religion  would  revive  in 
all  the  members  of  the  churches,  and  in  all  the  members  of  the  congre- 
gations ;  and  we  should  hear  ministers  preach — and  the  public  senti- 
ment would  corroborate  it — ^that  the  day  is  the  time  for  work,  and  the 
night  is  the  time  for  rest.  Night  for  home  ;  or,  if  it  is  to  be  used  for 
purposes  of  social  enjoyment,  then  it  should  be  used  with  regard  to 
timely  hours.  And  no  man  ought  to  see  the  middle  of  the  night  out 
of  his  bed,  unless  he  is  called  out  by  works  of  necessity  or  of  morality. 
A  man  should  violate  Sunday  quicker  than  the  twelve  o'clock  hour.  It 
is  well  to  be  in  bed  at  ten  o'clock.  If  om-  nights  could  be  shortened  at 
one  end,  and  lengthened  at  the  other,  it  would  be  better  for  us.  Get 
up  early.  Breakfast  early.  Work  early.  Use  the  day  for  the  works 
of  the  day,  and  the  night  for  works  of  recuperation,  and  not  for  works 
of  darkness. 

May  God  gi'ant  that  we  may  be  children  of  light,  not  alone  in 
the  literal  sense  in  which  I  have  been  speaking,  but  also  in  the  figm-- 
ative,  in  the  transferred  sense,  that  we  may  love  rectitude,  that  we  may 
love  virtue,  that  we  may  love  righteousness,  that  we  may  love  good 
men,  that  we  may  love  God,  the  supreme  Goodness,  and  that  we  may 
be  di-awn  by  his  unspeakable  grace  into  that  land  where  there  shall  be 
no  night,  but  where  the  clear  shining  of  his  face  shall  be  daylight  for- 
ever and  forever. 


mOET  AND  DAEKNESa.  133 

PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

We  gather  ourselves  again  around  thy  feet,  our  Heavenly  Father.  "We 
look  up  again  into  thy  gracious  face.  We  rejoice  that  there  is  no  terror 
there  for  those  who  have  learned  to  know  thee.  Thou  lookest  with  peace 
and  with  joy  upon  us  ;  and  thou  seest  in  us,  not  what  is,  but  that  which  is  to 
be  when  thy  grace  shall  have  wrought  out  the  old,  and  brought  in  the  new. 
And  we  rejoice  that  there  is  a  refuge;  that  there  is  hope  and  rescue;  that 
He  that  is  most  offended  is  most  placable ;  and  that  the  Being  who  is  holiest 
and  purest  is  the  most  patient  and  lenient  with  those  that  are  impure  and 
unholy.  Though  thou  canst  not  sin,  thou  hast  been  tempted  in  all  points 
nice  as  toe  are.  Thou  knowest  the  burdens  of  temptation,  the  trials,  which 
men  go  through.  The  secret  springs  of  difficulty  in  the  way  of  life  are 
plain  to  thee.  And  standing  in  our  midst,  bearing  our  form,  upon  thee  has 
beaten  sorrow,  and  all  the  stream  of  sadness  has  set  against  thee  in  vain. 
Thou  hast  endured ;  and  thou  art  able  not  only  to  pity,  but  to  succor,  those 
that  are  temjated ;  and  we  are  drawn  near  to  thee  hj  this  fellow  feeling. 
And  since  thou  hast  been  in  our  place,  and  borne  our  nature,  and  known  our 
trial  and  trouble,  and  art  willing  to  help  us,  why  should  we  not  come  to 
thee  ?  O  thou  Nurse  of  all  that  is  good !  O  thou  Teacher  of  all  that  is  wise  ! 
O  thou  Captain  of  our  salvation !  to  thee  we  come  to  put  ourselves  under 
thy  care,  sure  that  thou  art  interested  in  us,  and  that  thy  heart  engages  itself 
in  our  behalf  And  why  should  we  need  friendship,  with  whom  is  God  ? 
Why  should  we  need  hope,  upon  whose  hearts  thou  dost  pour  the  twilight 
of  thy  hope  ?  Why  should  we  be  solitary  and  alone,  and  discouraged  in 
our  loneliness,  since  thou  art  with  us  ?  All  things  are  for  our  sake.  The 
blessedness  of  thy  life,  working  in  providence,  working  in  divine  channels  of 
grace, ^working  by  nature,  working  by  thy  heart  and  by  thy  spirit,  working 
by  all  things  that  surround  us,  is  leading  us  to  the  heavenly  manna — to  the 
heavenly  spirit — to  that  blessedness  which  shall  only  pass  from  gloi7  to 
glory. 

And  now  we  thank  thee  for  any  steps  which  we  have  taken  ;  for  any  sins 
which  we  have  overcome ;  for  any  knowledge  which  has  enabled  us  to  rise 
higher  in  our  estimate  of  life,  and  to  take  higher  standards.  We  thank  thee 
for  all  the  things  that  are  good,  or  that  in  any  wise  point  toward  goodness 
in  ourselves.  By  the  grace  of  God  we  are  what  we  are.  All  our  good  works 
thou  hast  wrought  in  us — to  thy  name  be  the  honor  and  the  glory.  And 
we  commit  ourselves  still  to  thy  fatherly  care.  As  thou  hast  begun,  so  con- 
tinue and  end  thy  work  in  our  souls. 

We  pray  for  the  prayerless.  We  pray  for  the  children  of  parents  that 
have  gone  home  to  glory.  We  pray  for  those  that  have  been  instructed  all 
their  life  long,  but  with  whom  wisdom  has  brought  forth  no  fruit. 

We  beseech  thee,  O  Lord,  that  thou  wilt  make  the  word  of  truth  sharper 
than  a  two-edged  sword.  Search  out  the  hidden  thoughts  of  men.  Follow 
those  that  are  gone  from  thee.  Both  by  fear  and  by  stripes  make  manifest 
thy  fidelity. 

Grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  that  there  may  be  heart-searchings ;  that  there 
raay  be  many  that  shall  be  pricked  in  the  heart,  and  turned  from  wickedness 
to  righteousness ;  from  darkness  to  light,  from  the  service  of  Satan  to  the 
service  of  the  living  God. 

We  pray,  O  Lord  !  that  thou  wilt  accept  our  thanksgiving  for  the  work 
of  good  that  thou  art  doing  in  so  many  hearts;  in  the  hearts  of  so  many 
that  have  been  brought  forward  into  the  Christian  life.  And  may  their 
numbers  be  doubled.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  still  go  on  ripening  more  and 
more  the  precious  seed  that  has  been  sown.  We  thank  thee  for  the  courage 
which  we  have  in  that  the  Gospel  is  not  dead,  and  that  the  power  of  God 
is  yet  in  the  letter  and  in  the  spirit  of  truth. 

We  pray  that  thy  servants  may  everywhere  be  encouraged  botli  to  sow 


134  mQET  AND  DARKNESS, 

and  to  reap.  May  they  be  bold  in  the  service  of  God.  May  they  not  feaf 
the  face  of  man.  May  they  go  forth  untrammeled  by  corrupt  customs.  We 
pray  that  they  may  have  that  wisdom  which  shall  make  them  wiser  than 
the  maxims  of  selfishness.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  to  all  those  that 
are  walking  in  the  Christian  life  greater  fruition ;  greater  blessedness ;  more 
light ;  more  experience  of  gladness ;  songs  in  the  night,  if  they  be  in  adver- 
sity ;  testimony,  if  they  be  in  prosperity,  that  God  can  keep  the  soul  even 
in  prosperity. 

Build  up  thy  kingdom  everywhere.  Unite  all  thy  people.  More  and 
more  cordially  may  they  work  together  for  the  things  which  respect  their 
common  Lord.  Make  haste  to  fulfill  the  promises  which  are  delayed  and 
unfulfilled  respecting  the  final  glory.  O  Lord  Jesus !  wait  not.  Advance 
thy  banner.  Bring  forth  the  light,  we  beseech  of  thee,  of  that  long  year — 
of  the  thousand  years — which  shall  stand  upon  the  earth.  Grant,  we  pray 
thee,  that  the  day  may  hasten  when  sin  and  sorrow  shall  flee  away,  and  joy 
and  gladness  take  possession  of  the  earth. 

iuid  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.    Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 


Grant,  our  Father,  thy  blessing  upon  the  word  of  warning  which  we 
have  spoken.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  the  young  may  be  cautioned,  and 
that  those  who  are  in  charge  of  them  may  take  caution.  Grant,  we  pray 
thee,  that  those  may  be  rescued  who  are  without  care,  and  without  any  who 
look  after  their  souls.  Pity  the  outcast.  Pity  the  needy.  Deliver  them 
from  those  that  would  destroy  them.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless 
more  and  more  the  teachings  of  the  sanctuary.  More  and  more  let  thy  Gos- 
pel be  made  known  to  men,  with  healing  power.  We  ask  these  things,  not 
because  we  are  worthy,  but  in  the  adorable  name  of  our  Saviour,  to  whoiUf 
■vrith  the  Father  and  the  Spirit,  shall  be  praises  everlasting.    Amen. 


vin. 
The  True  Economy  of  Living. 


INVOCATION. 


April  24, 1870. 

THOU  hast  revealed  thyself,  our  Father,  and  the  day  shines ;  but 
brighter  is  the  light  that  thou  castest  from  thy  soul  forth  upon  those 
that  can  behold  it.  Arise,  O  Sun  of  righteousness  !  and  shine  with  enlivening 
beams  upon  our  souls,  that,  if  we  are  in  the  night,  we  may  come  forth ;  that, 
if  we  are  in  sin,  or  doubt,  or  trouble,  or  unbelief,  we  may  have  a  blessed 
resurrection,  and  find  our  morning  joy  in  thee.  Draw  near  to  us,  that  we 
may  know  what  are  the  privileges  which  we  have.  Shine  upon  all  the 
mercies  which  are  around  about  us,  that  they  may  seem  to  us  as  beautifu 
as  they  are.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  we  may  find  thee  to-day.  And  that 
which  we  cannot  do  by  the  feet,  nor  by  the  hands,  may  we  do  by  holy 
thoughts,  and  climb  up  into  thy  very  presence,  and  see  thee  as  thou  art,  and 
rejoice  in  thee  altogether.  Bless  our  communion  in  prayer.  Bless  our  fel- 
lowship of  sacred  song.  Inspire  the  words  of  instruction  which  shall  be 
spoken.  Bless  our  meditation.  May  every  service  of  devotion  both  here 
and  everywhere,  this  day,  be  under  thy  divine  inspiration  and  guidance. 
And  so  be  pleased  with  us,  and  teach  us  to  be  pleased  with  thee,  above  all 
other  things.  Which  we  ask  for  Christ's  sake.  Amen. 
8. 


THE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVIIG. 


"  He  that  findeth  his  life  shall  lose  it;  and  he  that  loseth  his  life  for  mj 
Bake,  shall  fiud  it." — Matt.  x.  39. 


We  find  the  same  teaching  repeated  in  the  same  Gospel.  In  the 
16th  chapter  substantially  the  same  phraseology  is  employed.  In  the 
25th  verse  of  that  chapter,  it  is  said,  "  Whosoever  will  save  his  life 
shall  lose  it ;  and  whosoever  will  lose  his  life  for  my  sake,  shall  find  it." 

It  may  be  supposed  that  our  Saviour,  from  the  current  impression 
of  his  simplicity  and  truthfulness  and  straightforwardness,  would  not 
be  addicted  to  parabolical  teaching ;  but  his  style  is  eminently  charac- 
terized by  paradox,  as  was  also  his  life.  He  was  not  a  being  made  up 
of  straight  lines  alone.  Born  in  beauty,  his  life  was  full  of  those 
curves,  those  unexpected  ways,  those  hidings  of  himself,  as  it  were, 
peering  out  to  excite  surprise.  He  had  so  many  ways  that  were  pro- 
vocative, that  excited  expectation,  that  won  attention,  that  fascinated, 
that  wherever  fee  went  he  was  the  one  man  of  observation.  And  we 
see  traces  of  it  in  the  Scriptures  which  are  reported  from  him.  In 
his  life,  (although  but  a  very  small  portion,  a  mere  fragment,  of  the 
life  of  Christ  is  recorded,  and  in  our  hands)  you  will  find  this  same 
paradoxical  utterance  repeated  again,  and  apparently  under  other  cir- 
cumstances, as  recorded  in  the  12th  Chapter  of  John's  Gosj^el,  and  the 
25  th  verse. 

"  He  that  loveth  his  life  shall  lose  it ;  and  he  that  hateth  his  life  in  this 
world  shall  keep  it  unto  life  eternal." 

This  is  said  immediately  following  another  figure : 
"  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the 
ground  and  die,  it  abideth  alone ;  but  if  it  die,  it  bringeth  forth  much 
fruit." 

Now,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed,  because  it  is  contraiy  to  the  tenor  of 
Christ's  teaching  otherwhere,  that  we  are  taught  to  hate  life  in  the 
very  literal  and  more  obvious  sense  of  that  phrase.  Just  such  another 
parallel  instance  occurs  where  we  are  told  that  we  are  not  worthy  of 
Christ  if  we  do  not  forsake  father  and  mother,  brother  and  sister,  hus- 

SuNtiAT  Morning,  April  24,  1870.  Lesson:  1  Tim.  VL  Hymns  (Plymouth  Collection)  ii 
Nos.  260,  688,  "  Shining  Shore." 


13G  TEE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING. 

band  and  wife.  And  another  rendering  of  it,  in  another  Gospel,  is, 
that  if  we  do  not  hate  them  and  come  to  Christ  we  are  not  worthy  of 
him.  But,  certainly,  the  Saviour  does  not  mean  that  men  shall  hate 
theij-  parents,  and  all  their  connections ;  or,  that  coming  to  him  is  in 
every  instance  to  involve  the  sacrifice  of  all  men's  aifections  and  rela- 
tions. It  is  simply  a  mode  by  which  relative  aifection  is  indicated. 
Our  love  for  God  must  be  first ;  and  if  any  other  afiection  comes  in  col- 
lision with  it,  then  that  other  aifection  must  be  sacrificed.  The  love 
of  God  must  be  free.  Under  that  all  other  aifections  may  be  justified  ; 
but  there  must  be  no  rivahy  with  it.  And  so  here  we  are  not  in  a  lit- 
eral sense  to  hate  our  lives.  That  would  contravene  the  teaching  of 
Scripture,  as  well  as  of  life  itself,  and  produce  infinite  confusion  in  the 
ideas  of  men. 

"We  are,  nevertheless,  by  this  very  strong  language,  taught  that 
there  may  be  an  ideal  of  life  and  a  form  of  living  which  we  are  to  tread 
under  foot ;  and  it  is  to  the  illustration  of  this  that  I  shall  address 
myself. 

The  order  of  values  in  the  nature  of  man  are  in  an  inverse  order  to 
the  development  of  his  powers,  and  all  their  values.  Men  are  born  into 
this  world  little  animals.  There  is  no  other  animal  born  so  low  as 
man.  There  is  no  other  animal  of  which  there  is  so  little  in  its  begin- 
nings. There  is  nothing  that  has  to  wait  so  long  and  travel  so  far  be- 
fore it  finds  itself,  as  the  human  animal.  It  would  seem  as  though  the 
shorter  the  time  of  existence  of  any  creature  on  earth,  the  more  perfect 
it  is  at  its  start ;  as  though,  having  no  time  to  get  right,  it  therefore 
had  to  be  made  right  at  the  beginning.  And  the  seed  of  human  life  is 
put  as  remote  as  possible  from  the  point  of  maturity ;  and  then  it  is,  by 
successive  experiences,  to  be  developed  to  that  maturity. 

Man,  as  the  highest  animal  organization  of  the  globe,  has  the  long- 
est term,  not  simply  of  life,  but  of  development.  And  in  developing, 
he  develops  first  a  lower  class  of  faculties,  purely  physical.  A  babe  is 
a  mere  thing  of  suction.  The  lowest,  the  least,  is  it,  of  all  created 
beings.  K  it  were  not  for  the  prophecy  of  love,  if  it  were  not  for  the 
transfiguration  which  maternal  hope  puts  upon  it,  we  could  scarcely 
think  of  anything  less  attractive  than  a  new-born  babe.  And  yet,  there 
is  nothing  on  the  globe  so  precious  to  the  heart  of  love — not  for  what 
it  is,  but  for  all  that  it  is  to  be  when  it  shall  have  come  to  itself 
Thi'ough  days  and  weeks  and  months  this  little  hope  of  life  to  come, 
this  little  mass  of  nothing,  lies  in  the  mother's  arms,  waiting  for  liberty 
to  be.  And  as  it  begins  to  develop,  and  comes  out  of  the  lower  periods 
of  life  into  some  degree  of  automatic  action  and  experience,  the  phys- 
ical is  developed  fastest  and  most. 

And  fii'st  are  developed  the  appetites  or  faculties  which  have  to  do 


I 


THE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING.  137 

with  our  physical  condition,  and  which  are  ministrant  to  it — the  feed- 
ing instincts,  the  nutritive  instincts,  by  which  the  body  is  to  be  built 
up — that  body  in  which  the  whole  experiment  of  life  is  to  be  tried. 

As  the  child  develops  beyond  this  point,  the  order  is,  next,  the  de- 
velopment, in  simple,  of  its  incipient  passions.  But  more  rapidly  wG 
develop  these  engineering  instincts,  if  I  may  so  call  them.  Men  call 
them  passio7is,  on  account  of  their  excess  and  abuse.  Those  working 
powers  by  which  men  strive  vnt\\  nature,  and  strive  for  success  in  the 
bodily  life,  begin  to  develop)  the  force-elements  in  men.  They  come 
in,  perhaps  it  may  be  said,  the  second  or  thu'd  in  the  order. 

And  then  come  the  higher  social  relations,  by  which  men  begin  to 
please  each  other ;  all  the  affinities  by  which  society  affiliates ;  by  which 
the  household  is  founded ;  by  which  men  have  commerce  with  men ; 
by  which  all  finer  elements  begin  to  help  each  other. 

Then,  beyond  that,  and  afterwards,  in  the  more  perfect  development, 
come  reason  and  the  imagination.  But  the  real  growth  and  strength 
of  the  reason  comes  after  the  development  of  the  passions  and  the 
affections. 

And  last  of  all,  the  latest,  and  with  most  waiting,  and  most  work- 
ing, and  most  suffering,  comes  the  development  of  the  moral  nature  of 
man,  and  paiticularly  the  spiritual-moral — that  is  to  say,  that  part 
whose  food  is  invisible  realities ;  whose  food  is  the  remote,  the  impal- 
pable, the  unsensuous. 

This  is  the  order  of  time,  and  it  is  the  inverse  of  the  oi'der  of  ul- 
timate importance.  In  the  beginning  of  life,  the  most  important  thing 
is  that  the  child  shall  have  a  good  body ;  but  at  the  end  of  life  a  good 
body  is  not  the  most  important  thing,  by  any  means. 

In  the  beginning  of  life  it  is  important,  next,  that  the  child  should 
learn  how  to  engineer  its  little  body  in  the  midst  of  the  elements  sur- 
rounding him.  But  when  one  has  become  ripe,  these  engineering 
traits  and  endowments  fall  into  a  relatively  lower  position. 

When  birds  build  then*  nests  in  spring,  as  they  are  now  doing  out 
of  doors,  the  most  important  thing  that  they  can  do  is  to  build  those 
nests,  as  every  robin  knows,  and  every  blue-bu-d  knows,  and  every  spar- 
row knows.  But  by-and-by  the  nest  will  be  filled  with  eggs  ;  and  ev- 
erybody knows  that  the  eggs  will  be  worth  more  than  the  nest  And 
by-and-by  the  eggs  will  give  place  to  the  young  fledgelings.  And 
everybody  knows  that  these  fledgelings,  homely  as  they  are,  all  mouth, 
will  be  vastly  more  important  than  the  eggs.  Then  by-and-by  the  bu"d 
gets  its  feathers,  and  flies  away.  And  who  cares  now  what  becomes 
of  the  egg-shells,  or  the  nest,  or  anything  else  that  is  left  behind  ?  The 
bird  is  what  has  come  of  all  these  things.  They  are  the  instruments 
by  which  the  bird  was  built  up.     But  now  that  they  have  fulfilled  their 


138  THE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING. 

office,  they  are  not  good  for  anything — not  even  for  next  year :  the 
uselessness  of  a  "  hxst  year's  bird's  nest "  is  proverbial. 

So  it  is  in  the  beginning  of  human  life,  to  a  large  extent.  The 
figure  of  Christ  is  to  be  taken  with  allowance,  and  not  with  extreme 
application.  The  things  that  are  indispensable  to  start  the  little  creature 
in  life,  are,  at  the  time,  of  transcendent  importance ;  but  when  it  is  once 
started,  carried  along,  developed,  brought  to  a  maximum,  then  those 
instruments  that  were  of  prime  importance,  sink  lower  and  lower  until 
they  become  absolutely  insignificant.  And  all  the  way  through  life 
there  is  this  phenomenology — there  is  this  lower  physical  life,  this 
intermediate,  engineering  life,  and  this  higher  and  more  intellectual 
life — as  you  might  say,  three  lives  wrapped  up  in  the  one. 

The  oi'der  of  development,  I  have  said,  is  not  the  order  of  value. 
The  value  is  relative  to  the  period.  But,  after  all,  a  true  manhood  in 
Christ  Jesus  is  the  ideal  at  which  human  life  is  aiming.  It  is  that 
which  we  are  taught  man  is  created  for,  and  which  if  he  loses  he  loses 
everything. 

In  the  lowest  materialistic  idea  of  life,  drawn  from  the  lower  orders, 
the  end  of  life  seems  to  be,  to  be  born,  to  eat,  to  propagate,  to  die, 
and  then  to  do  it  right  over  and  over  again,  forever  and  evei\  Nothing 
comes  of  it.  There  is  no  extension,  there  is  no  generation  of  power, 
beyond  the  simple  capacity  of  maintaining  in  the  world  the  series  of  ex- 
istences that  have  filled  it.  And  so  we  find  that  the  insect  family  never 
get  beyond  what  they  were.  They  are  born  perfect.  They  run  through 
a  short  line.  And  the  next  generation  are  just  like  them.  And  in  a 
thousand  years  there  is  not  one  single  step  of  appreciable  progress 
made. 

It  is  not  so  in  the  human  family.  As  we  go  up,  more  and  more  is 
added  to  life.  As  we  rise  from  the  lower  forms  of  organized  existence, 
new  organs  appeal',  and  with  them  new  functions.  More  time  is  in- 
volved in  their  development.  They  have  a  more  complicated  sphere  of 
activity.  Their  experiences  are  more  complex.  The  climax  in  this  line 
of  development  is  reached  in  man,  who  begins  lowest,  as  we  have  said, 
who  takes  the  longest  time  to  get  a-going,  who  averages  the  greatest 
time  in  this  world,  who  has  the  greatest  store  of  permanent  acquisi- 
tions within  the  i-ange  of  our  knowledge,  and  who,  above  all,  and  char- 
acteristically, secures  at  last  what  we  have  no  evidence  is  secured  any- 
where below — a  manhood  that  is  worth  preserving. 

When  Van  Mons  would  have  new  pears  better  than  the  old  ones, 
he  sowed  thousands  and  thousands  of  seeds  of  wildings  ;  and  when  they 
came  up,  to  expedite  the  process,  to  hasten  maturity,  he  took  gi-aft* 
and  put  them  into  old  trees.  And  among  all  the  pears  that  he  got 
there  was  not  one  that  was  worth  eating.     But  they  wei-e  a  great  im- 


THE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING.  139 

provement  on  the  wildings.  So  he  took  the  seeds  of  these  advanced 
ones,  and  sowed  them ;  and  when  they  came  up,  he  grafted  them  also 
into  the  old  trees  to  expedite  their  maturation.  And  among  the  second 
generation  there  were  none  that  were  worth  saving.  Bnt  this  genera- 
tion was  a  great  advance  on  the  first.  And  he  took  the  seeds  of  the 
last  growths,  and  sowed  them.  And  when  by-and-by  he  had  carried 
them  through  four  or  five  generations,  he  began  to  get  Flemish  pears, 
which  were  better  than  any  that  he  had  known  before.  And  he  said, 
"  Now  I  have  got  something  that  is  worth  having."  And  these  he 
propagated  and  earned  on. 

This  will  stand  as  a  sort  of  illustration  of  the  order  of  creation^ 
It  would  seem  as  though  the  divine  creative  thought  of  existence] 
stood  in  innumerable  forms.  And  in  the  first  stage  it  was  worth  what 
it  was  worth.  It  lived  and  died,  and  that  was  the  end  of  it.  Then 
higher  and  better  than  that,  but  not  worth  keeping,  are  other  grada- 
tions through  which  we  pass  in  coming  to  man.  And  untU  we  come  to 
man's  estate,  to  this  higher  race  of  animals,  we  cannot  find  any  intima- 
tion in  the  Word  of  God  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  saving  them 
over,  preserving  them.  But  when  one,  by  the  wise  application  of  his 
own  faculties,  and  of  the  knowledge  which  he  acquu-es  through  those 
fiiculties,  knows  how  to  carry  himself  up  into  manhood  in  Christ  Jesus, 
there  is  immortality  for  him.  Then,  at  last,  nature  has  reached  the 
point  in  which  it  is  worth  saving  and  carrying  over  into  the  other  life. 

It  is  precisely  this  developed  ideal  manhood  that  the  Gospel  holds 
out,  which  we  are  aiming  at.  And  all  the  stages  preceding  it  are  but 
so  many  steps  ascending  to  it ;  so  many  organizations  ministering  to 
it ;  so  many  instruments  relative  to  it.  And  if  men  secure  it,  they 
secure  the  end  of  then*  own  existence.  If  they  fall  short  of  it,  they 
fall  short  of  everything.  For  it  is  in  this  manhood  that  immortality 
inheres — this  salvable  manhood,  which  is  something  more  than  the  en- 
gine of  this  mortal  state.  There  is  a  natm'e  that  has  been  so  developed 
and  trained  that  it  has  something  in  it  besides  that  which  eats,  and 
diiuks,  and  sleeps,  and  overcomes,  and  fights,  and  strives  with  pas- 
sionate earnestness ;  a  nature  that  has  in  it  stores  of  elements  and 
powers  that  fit  it  for  the  communion  of  higher  beings,  and  of  God 
himself,  for  evermore.  All  through  the  teachings  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  it  is  this  last  communion  that  is  represented  as  the  true 
life.  It  so  transcends  every  other,  so  much  better  is  it  than  evciything 
else,  that  Christ  in  speaking  of  it  calls  it  the  life,  knowing  all  the  time 
that  men  call  other  things  tlte  life — eating  and  drinking,  and  pleasures. 
And  taking  these  two  ideas  of  life,  and  uniting  them,  he  jjlays  upoa 
them,  one  after  another.  "  He  that  will  save  his  life" — that  is,  the 
lower  one — "  shall  lose  it" — that  is,  the  other  one.     He  that  would  save 


140  THE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING. 

his  life,  he  that  will  not  risk  anything  for  it,  he  that  is  all  the  time 
looking  after  the  lower  life,  and  not  the  higher,  shall  lose  the  higher. 
He  that  wants  to  cultivate  himself,  and  wants  to  make  himself  happy, 
and  wants  to  live  in  the  present  moment ;  he  that  wants  now,  now,  now, 
to  be  made  munificent,  and  cares  nothing  for  then,  then,  then,  shall 
lose  the  thing  for  which  the  race  was  created — the  immortal  life. 

Now, men  make  the  order  of  nature  and  of  time  the  order  of  their 
value.  Men  perpetually  tend  to  live  for  the  things  which  make  the 
body  strong,  skillful,  wise,  and  enjoying.  They  tend  to  overestimate 
the  body.  They  tend  to  overestimate  present  pleasures,  present  power, 
I  the  secular  development  of  man,  and  to  underestimate  all  those  yet 
'  higher  developments  and  elements  for  which  the  secular  was  created 
as  instrumental.  They  live  by  sight,  as  it  is  said.  They  live  by  the 
senses.  They  live  sensuously,  or  for  physical  enjoyment.  Whenever 
either  one  or  the  other  is  to  be  sacrificed,  men  sacrifice  the  higher,  the 
impalpable,  the  least  immediately  productive  things.  If  it  be  honor 
or  profit,  profit  is  preserved,  and  honor  is  given  up.  If  it  be  truth  or 
influence  and  station,  truth  must  be  waived.  Men  seem  to  feel,  and 
act  substantially  as  if  they  felt,  that,  having  been  created  with  powers 
in  this  world,  it  was  lawful,  right  and  manly  for  one  to  put  those  powers 
into  use,  and  by  them  carry  himself  to  any  attainable  degree  of  strength, 
and  wealth,  and  pleasm*e  ;  and  that  he  is  not  to  be  interrapted,  or  re- 
sisted, or  overruled  by  any  conceptions  of  right  and  wi'ong,  of  purity 
and  impurity,  or  of  manhood-  So  that  in  the  great  battle  of  life,  gen- 
erally speaking,  the  senses  prevail  against  the  insensuous.  The  visible 
is  victorious,  and  the  invisible  is  sacrificed. 

The  fact,  however,  is,  and  is  declared  to  be,  that  in  every  respect, 
the  higher  elements  of  human  life  are  so  superior  to  all  below  them, 
that  it  may  be  truly  said  in  each  element,  that  he  who  takes  the  lower 
loses  the  whole.  I  firmly  believe  that  the  higher  wisdom,  the  moral 
wisdom,  though  it  takes  it  longer  to  ripen  and  work,  is  more  profitable 
for  the  world  that  now  is,  than  the  lower  wisdom. 

If  you  consider  that  man  is  at  the  bottom  an  animal,  midway  a 
citizen,  and  at  the  top  Christian  or  divine,  I  hold  that  the  wisdom  of 
the  citizen  is  better  than  the  wisdom  of  the  animal.  Thought  is  bet- 
ter than  cunning.  The  animal  is  cunning.  It  does  not  think.  But 
men  think ;  and  thinking  is  better  than  cunning  for  the  process  of  life. 
But  there  is  such  a  thing  as  intuition,  which  belongs  to  the  higher  life, 
and  which  is  as  much  better  than  thinking,  as  thinking  is  better  than 
cunning. 

Men,  in  the  great  battle  of  life,  say,  "  We  cannot  conduct  life  suo- 
cessfully  and  still  live  by  the  highest  rules."  I  aver,  contrariwise, 
that  there  is  no  way  in  which  human  life  can  be  built  up  so  fii-mly,  so 


THE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING.  141 

broadly,  so  impregnably,  and  so  bountifully  in  joy,  as  by  the  wisdom 
which  comes  from  the  highest  moral  intuitions  and  the  highest  moral 
truths — in  other  words  that  the  Spirit  of  Christ  is  not  a  Spirit  that  shall 
sweeten  a  man's  closet  any  more  than  his  shop  or  store.  The  laws  of 
truth,  of  sensitive  honor,  and  of  the  highest  Christian  spirituality,  are 
applicable  to  the  commercial  aspects  of  life,  or  to  the  dealings  of  men 
in  civil  life  ;  and  they  are  as  much  more  profitable,  in  the  long  run,  than 
thought  or  cunning,  as  they  are  finer,  and  truer,  and  nobler,  and  higher. 
And  yet,  many  reject  this  higher  wisdom.  They  do  not  believe  in  it. 
They  laugh  it  to  scorn  in  the  street,  over  the  counter,  in  the  caucus,  in 
the  legislative  hall,  and  on  field  of  political  strife.  "  All  things  are  law- 
ful," men  say,  "  in  business,  in  war  and  in  politics."  The  amount  of  it 
is,  they  think  all  things  are  lawful  eveiywhei'e.  They  think  a  man  has 
a  right  to  scramble,  and  to  go  by  slippery  ways,  or  any  kind  of  ways,  in 
order  to  succeed.  It  is  supj^osed  that  however  low  the  aim  or  ambition, 
it  is  lawful  for  a  man  to  use  every  part  of  himself,  without  any  other ^ 
limitation  than  the  average  public  sentiment  requires  in  the  community 
in  which  he  lives.  But  I  aver  that  a  man  can  succeed  in  the  gi'eat  courses 
ot  life  if  he  be  strong  enough,  and  patient  enough,  and  willing  to  wait 
long  enough.  If  a  man  will  act  from  the  wisdom  of  purity,  and  the 
wisdom  of  grace  in  his  soul,  he  will  be  a  better  manager  of  business 
or  pleasure,  he  will  be  a  better  economist  or  householder,  and  he  will 
be  a  better  civilian  or  politician,  than  if  he  goes  by  the  suggestions  of 
worldly  experience  and  worldly  wisdom. 

This  thought  might  be  v\x.n  out  in  many  details. 

There  are  those  who  think  that  religion  denies  pleasure  to  men. 
No.  The  condemnation  of  pleasure  is,  that  men  select  so  poor  an  I 
article.  God  made  men  to  live  upon  pleasurable  excitement.  Every 
faculty  has  this  quality  as  a  result  of  its  divine  origin.  There  is  not  a 
faculty  in  the  human  soul  that  is  not  made  to  have  the  inspii-ation  of 
pleasure  in  it.  And  you  cannot  act  in  any  sphere  of  life,  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest,  without  it. 

But  the  quality  of  pleasure  goes  up  ;  and  as  man  rises  toward  his 
true  spiritual  manhood,  pleasures,  although  they  may  not  be  so  impetu- 
ous, are  not  so  harsh,  are  not  so  intense,  are  of  a  finer  quality,  are 
of  longer  duration,  and  are  more  harmonizing.  They  admit  of  fellow- 
ship one  with  another,  so  that  the  average  of  pleasures  in  the  higher 
life  is  far  greater  than  in  the  intermediate  or  the  lower  and  animal  life. 
Does  any  person  suppose  that  one  man  reaps  as  much  satisfaction 
from  a  wild  night  of  debauch  and  wassail,  however  exhilai-ating  it  may 
be,  as  another  man  does  from  the  indulgence  of  his  pure  and  virtuous 
social  afiections  ?  He  thinks  for  the  hour  that  he  does ;  but  as  he  looks 
back,  and  compares  it  with  higher  experiences,  and  interprets  the  ono 


142  TEE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING. 

and  the  other,  he  knows  that  the  higher  affections  really  beget  in  him 
more  of  pleasure.  When  men  look  back  on  theu*  life  they  are  more 
likely  to  form  right  judgments  than  when  they  look  forward  to  their 
future  experiences. 

AVhen,  therefore,  men  are  dissuaded  from  pleasure,  it  is  lower  pleas- 
ure that  is  meant.  We  are  supposed,  in  this  world,  to  be  happy  ;  but 
we  are  to  take  our  happiness  from  growth  into  a  higher  manhood,  and 
from  (he  normal  use  of  the  moral  elements  that  are  in  us.  And  he 
that  aims  at  lower  pleasure  forfeits  true  j^leasm-e.  He  would  save  his 
pleasure,  and  he  loses  it. 

That  which  is  true  of  pleasure,  is  true  of  praise.  All  men  love 
2)raise — or  ought  to.  It  is  wholesome.  Bad  as  it  is  in  ordinary  life, 
it  was  meant  to  serve  an  admirable  pui-pose.  There  is  no  criminality 
in  seeking  praise  ;  but  there  is  gi'eat  criminality  in  seeking  such  praise 
as  good  men  ought  not  to  want.  That  praise  which  comes  from  the 
exhibition  of  lower  traits;  that  praise  which  springs  from  the  un- 
knowing and  from  those  that  praise  from  their  lower  nature,  is  not  to 
be  sought.  If  one  has  a  large  conception  of  manhood,  of  what  he 
ought  to  be,  and  then  is  j^raised  by  those  who  understand  what  that  is, 
he  has  a  right  to  enjoy  praise.  But  praise  for  his  lower  faculties,  or 
praise  for  his  animal  life,  or  praise  for  things  which  he  does  not  possess, 
but  only  pretends  to  have — how  wretched  is  that  I  He  that  will  have 
a  vulgar  and  uneducated  love  of  praise  will  not  have  the  other.  But 
he  that  despises  anything  like  incense  to  his  ignorance,  or  incense  to 
his  pretenses,  or  incense  to  his  position  in  society ;  he  that  has  a  moral 
element  which  scorns  the  untruth  and  the  baseness  of  such  praise,  and 
aims  at  something  higher  than  man's  aj)plause,  and  loves  the  praise  of 
God  more  than  the  praise  of  men — he  may  lose  praise  at  present,  but 
he  will  gain  it  hereafter.  The  higher  will,  in  the  long  run,  rule  the 
lower. 

That  which  is  true  of  praise  is  true  of  power.  The  desire  to  ac- 
complish in  life  is  a  normal  desire.  It  is  a  noble  ambition.  I  am  not 
one  that  ever  preaches  against  ambition.  I  preach  against  corrupt, 
false,  base  and  low  ambition.  I  would  to  God  that  men  had  more,  a 
good  deal  more,  ambition,  if  it  were  only  aimed  in  the  right  dii-ection, 
and  sought  the  right  things.  It  is  the  want  of  an  ideal  of  something 
better  and  greater  that  keeps  men  so  low ;  that  holds  them  down  to 
such  vulgarity  ;  that  destroys  so  many  men  in  the  making.  If  a  man 
desires  power  without  any  regard  to  its  moral  quality,  and  without  any 
reo-ard  to  what  it  costs ;  if  a  man  seeks  the  lowest  and  the  commonest 
power,  and  gives  up  everything  for  it  that  is  demanded — gives  up  his 
conscience ;  gives  up  his  principle  ;  gives  up  his  time  ;  gives  up  his 
delicate  feelings ;  gives  up  domestic  life — he  will  have  power.     liOW, 


THE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING.  143 

dh-ty-hanclecl  power  will  he  have.  But  he  will  lose  true  power.  He 
buys  corrupt,  low  and  mean  power  at  the  price  of  sacrificing  that  which 
is  really  permanent  and  thoroughly  moral. 

"With  these  illustrations  and  openings,  I  trust  that  I  have  sufficiently 
given  you  an  insight  into  tlie  truth  and  teaching  of  our  Master,  to  jus- 
tify the  applications  that  I  shall  make. 

1.  Self-denial,  and  the  seeming  deprivation  which  men  make  in  be- 
ing good  in  this  life,  are  only  investments  ■\\'hich  come  back  to  them,  f 
by-and-by,  with  interest.  And  here  let  me  say,  in  the  first  place,  that 
Avhen  we  preach  religion  to  men  ;  when  we  say  to  men,  "  If  you  are  to 
become  Christians  you  must  give  up  this  and  that,  you  must  not  meddle 
with  such  and  such  things,"  there  is  a  vague  impression  that  religion 
imposes  certain  arbitrary  conditions  upon  a  man,  and  that  he  who  goes 
into  the  communion  of  the  Christian  church  is  to  be  shut  oif  from 
pleasures  and  licenses  and  indulgences.  They  do  not  know  why. 
They  merely  know  this  :  If  you  believe, you  shall  be  saved;  if  you  do 
not,  you  shall  be  damned.  And  in  order  not  to  be  damned,  they  are 
Avilling  to  be  saved.  And  if  that  is  the  price  that  they  must  pay  for 
salvation,  they  will  pay  it,  though  they  wish  it  was  not  requii'ed. 
They  would  like  to  enjoy  all  the  pleasures  which  are  within  their 
reach,  and  they  would  like  to  do  those  things  Avhich  are  calculated  to 
contribute  t©  their  present  enjoyment. 

Now,  there  is  nothing  arbitrary  about  it.  Whatever  experience  has 
shown  to  be  in  the  way  of  true  moral  education,  we  forbid  men ;  but 
whatever  thing  in  this  world  God  made  to  be  good,  is  good  to  the 
Christian,  provided  he  can  hold  it  in  consistence  with  the  develop- 
ment of  true  character. 

I  am  a  teacher,  and  in  my  school  I  have  twenty-five  jwpils.  I  allow 
them  to  play  until  nine  o'clock,  Avhen  my  school  comes  in ;  but  I  insist 
upon  it  that  they  shall  not  play  a  moment  after  that  time.  I  say  to 
them,  "  You  must  leave  off  your  play  and  come  in  at  nine  o'clock." 
But  is  it  because  I  do  not  like  play,  or  because  I  think  it  is  bad?  Is 
it  anything  more  than  this  :  that  I  am  satisfied  that  by  study  they  will 
lay  up  a  stock  of  future  enjoyment  which  they  cannot  get  by  play  ? 
If  the  child  is  taught  to  derive  pleasure  from  higher  sources,  he  will 
have  in  store  ten  times  as  much  as  he  would  if  I  suffered  him  to  play 
all  the  tima 

And  when  religion  comes  to  men,  does  it  come  draping  them  in 
gloom,  and  making  every  one  of  them  a  monk,  and  forbidding  the 
pleasures  of  this  life  as  though  they  were  in  themselves  wrong  ?  Does 
religion  teach  us  to  hate  the  body  as  though  it  were  hateful  ?  Nothing 
of  the  kind.  Religion  merely  says,  "Develop  the  highest  manhood, 
and  keep  everything  else  in  subordination ;  but  sacrifice  nothing.    Only 


144  THE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING. 

keep  the  whole  household  and  the  economy  of  your  manhood  in  such 
an  order  that  the  highest  things  shall  be  highest,  and  the  intermediate 
things  intermediate,  and  the  lowest  things  lowest,  and  let  that  princi- 
ple of  arrangement  and  subordination  be  maintained.  And  whatever 
a  man  has  to  give  up,  it  is  nothing  but  a  lower  faculty  giving  up  to  a 
higher  one.  It  is  nothing  but  a  lower  good  being  supplanted  by  a 
higher.  Whenever  a  man  begins  to  live  a  Christian  life,  what  is  called 
self-denial  is  simply  listening  to  the  inspiration  of  a  niger  truth  or  a 
higher  motive,  and  suppressing  the  inspiration  of  a  contrary  lower 
motive,  and  holding  it  down  for  the  sake  of  something  that  is  higher. 

A  man  puts  weights  into  one  scale  and  commodities  into  the  other.  If 
one  scale  goes  down,  the  other  goes  up.  And  so  in  weighing  things  in 
life  the  mind  is  a  balance.  You  cannot  have  everything  at  the  same 
time.  Especially  you  cannot  have  contraries  at  the  same  time.  There- 
fore you  choose  between  the  one  and  the  other.  You  reject  some  things? 
not  because  they  are  absolutely  evil,  but  because  they  are  not  so  good  as 
other  things,  and  you  cannot  have  both. 

"Be  angry  and  sin  not."  It  is  a  duty  to  be  angry;  but  then,  a 
man  must  be  angry  in  such  a  way  and  at  such  times  that  he  shall  have 
serve  a  generous  purpose.  It  is  a  shame  for  a  man  to  get  angry  sel- 
fishly ;  and  it  is  a  shame  for  a  man  not  to  become  gloriously  mangnani- 
mously  angry.  If  a  man  does  you  a  wrong,  and  calls  you  names,  do 
not  get  angry.  You  ought  to  live  so  high  that  no  man  can  throw  dii't 
up  to  where  you  are.  No  man  can  in  any  way  insult  you,  if  you  live  as 
you  ought  to  live.  Do  not  get  angry  at  what  anybody  says  to  you. 
But  if  some  poor  unbefriended  person  is  being  abused  to  his  damage, 
and  is  suffering,  and  you  stand  by  and  know  it,  get  angry  not  for  your 
own  sake,  but  for  his.  Get  angry  for  a  princii:)le.  Get  angry  for 
generosity.  Get  angry  for  your  conscience — no,  there  is  too  much 
anger  for  men's  consciences  already  in  the  world  ;  but  get  angry  for 
love.  "  Be  angry  and  sin  not ;"  and  then  you  will  hardly  need  to  have 
the  other  part  of  the  text  quoted — "  let  not  the  sun  go  down  upon 
your  wrath." 

And  in  the  matter  of  forebearance,  there  is  this  same  element  to 
be  kept  in  mind.  If  you  forbear,  it  is  for  the  sake  of  something  nobler 
and  higher.  And  all  self-denial  is  in  the  natm-e  of  seeking  something 
better  and  nobler. 

Here  are  two  men.  They  are  heire  each  to  ten  thousand  dollars — just 
enough  to  ruin  a  man :  not  enough  to  make  him  careful,  but  enough 
to  tempt  him  to  stop  industiy.  One  says,  "I  will  make  the  most 
of  my  money."  And  he  buys  his  fast  horses,  and  buys  his  fast  dogs, 
and  buys  his  fast  friends  ;  and  hia  friends  and  dogs  and  horses  are  of 
about  thiS  same  value !    And  he  rides  and  plays  and  stuffs,  and  stuffs 


[  TEE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING.  145 

and  plays  and  rides  ;  and  there  is  not  a  single  nerve  in  his  body  that  is 
not  kept  red-hot.  And  it  takes  but  about  ten  or  twelve  months  to  run 
through  ten  thousand  dollars,  provided  a  man  is  going  to  be  "  happy," 
and  happy  all  the  time.  And  after  the  ten  thousand  dollars  are  gone, 
and  he  is  out  of  pocket,  out  of  clothes,  out  of  character,  out  of  friends, 
out  of  horses,  out  of  dogs,  out  of  every  thing,  there  he  stands,  poor, 
miserable,  spoiled — utterly  spoiled. 

The  other  man  takes  his  ten  thousand  dollars,  and,  when  this 
young  gay  son  of  pleasure  is  blossoming  on  the  road,  the  observed  of 
all  fool- observers,  says,  "I  cannot  afford  these  things."  "Why?"  it  is 
said  to  him,  "  you  have  ten  thousand  dollars."  "  I  know  I  have,"  he 
says,  "but  I  am  going  to  invest  it  where  it  will  come  back  to  me 
doubled  and  quadrupled.  I  am  young,  and  I  have  health,  and  I  do 
not  need  so  much  excitement  or  j^rodigality.  Now,  while  I  am  strong 
and  vigorous,  I  am  able  to  forego  these  stimulations ;  to  live  without 
them.  And  by  the  time  I  am  in  the  middle  of  life,  and  going  down 
on  the  other  side,  I  am  determined  to  have  enough  to  keep  me  com- 
fortably. I  am  going  to  deny  myself  in  the  present  for  the  sake  of 
the  future;  and  therefore  I  cannot  afford  horses  and  hounds  and 
companions  and  salacious  pleasures."  What  is  he  doing?  He  is 
denying  himself  in  order  to  lay  up  his  money  so  that  he  shall  have  it 
when  he  needs  it  more  than  he  does  at  present.  It  is  not  so  much  a 
denial  as  it  is  an  investment  which  he  can  avail  himself  of  in  mid-life. 
Then  he  shall  have  all  that  pleasure  which  the  other  man  pines  after 
and  longs  for,  but  has  squandered,  and  shall  not  find  again. 

And  when  we  urge  men  to  virtue  and  heroism,  and  say  to  them, 
"  Bear  the  yoke  ;  carry  the  cross ;  deny  yourselves,"  what  do  we  mean? 
Looking  at  the  lower  faculties,  and  seeing  that  they  are  trymg  to  make 
you  live  for  the  lower  life,  for  the  now,  for  the  things  that  perish  ini 
the  using,  we  say,  No,  no,  do  not  live  that  life.  Do  not  give  yom- 
youth,  your  vigor,  to  that  which  perishes.  Direct  your  ambition  to» 
something  nobler ;  something  larger ;  something  richer ;  something- 
more  lasting ;  something  that  God  shall  like  when  he  looks  upon  ky 
and  of  which  he  shall  say,  "  It  shall  be  immortal." 

2.  Men  who  do  live  in  the  spirit  of  Christ's  philosophy  must  throw 
themselves  wholly  into  such  a  life  as  this.  It  is  one  of  those  things  that 
cannot  be  done  by  halves.  Nor  can  it  be  done  by  feeble  and  weak 
ways.  It  is  by  going  with  enthusiasm  into  the  higher  life  that  men 
reap  its  benefits,  and  escape  the  thrall  of  the  lower  one.  If  one  wishes 
the  comfort  of  truth  he  must  not  be,  eveiy  day,  debating  with  himself, 
"Shall  I  or  shall  I  not  prevaricate?"  A  man  that  is  all  the  time  study- 
ing the  casuistry  of  telling  the  truth,  and  the  casuistry  of  honor,  can- 
not be  true,   and  cannot  be  honorable.     Can  virtue  afford  casuistiy  f 


146  TEE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVIFG. 

Can  the  sanctity  of  chastity  afford  philosophizing  casuistries?  ix  rwn- 
not.  There  are  many  things  which  a  pure  nature  cannot  suYtei  ^vpn  to 
be  suggested  or  raised  as  questions.  It  is  so  Avith  truxh-sneDking. 
"  Shall  I  profitably  lie  ?"  The  very  suggestion  is  treasoi?..  A  m?,n 
that  means  to  be  an  honorable  man  must  go  over  soul  an^l  body  to  the 
truth  in  such  a  way  that  the  thought  never  comes  nr>  whether  he 
shall  or  shall  not.     There  cannot  be  two  sides  to  things  of  this  sort. 

That  which  is  true  in  these  familiar  illustrations  \Si  h'gher  life,  ia 
more  and  more  true  the  higher  you  ascend.  If  you  mean  to  live  for 
your  true  manhood,  and  for  your  immortality,  it)  wiii  uot  do  for  you  to 
live  by  half  measures.  You  must  give  your  whole  mojiI  to  the  great 
and  sublime  end  of  living  with  God  forever  and  xorever.  You  must 
rank  everything  as  relative  to  that  end.  It  is  WJilh  every  man's  en- 
deavor, and  it  must  have  eveiy  man's  endeavor. 

If  self-denial,  therefore,  in  you,  is  earnest,  ]i  i\  is  bold,  if  it  is 
almost  unthinking ;  if  men  go  into  the  work  oi*  religion,  the  work  of 
right-living,  the  work  of  manhood,  as  a  warrioj  /ipes  into  battle,  then 
it  becomes  easy.  Then  the  conflict  which  tne  apostle  likens  to  that 
physical  warfare  in  which  the  excitement  and  w  (fd  exhilaration  are  such 
that  the  soldier  does  not  feel  his  wounds,  noi  notice  his  fatigue,  nor 
mind  his  circumstances — that  conflict  become  easy.  That  which  we 
know  to  be  the  case  in  the  lower  life  in  this  respect,  is  Rt.Ul  more  so  in 
the  higher  life,  where  a  man  gives  himself  to  it  wholl}-,  with  all  his 
heart  and  mind  and  soul  and  strength.  A  man  that  means  to  live 
religiously,  and  puts  his  whole  power  into  it,  hv<js  easily ,  and  no  other 
man  can  live  easily  except  tho  man  who  gels  momentum  in  a  moral 
life. 

3.  Men  are  to  be  measured,  not  by  the  scale  of  folly,  as  folly  mea- 
sures in  this  world,  but  by  God's  everlasting  scale  of  manhood  ;  and 
we  cannot  tell  who  are  prosperous  and  who  are  not  prosperous  in  this 
-world  by  the  worldly  measure.  Who  are  the  prosj)erous  men  in  this 
world  ?  Are  they  the  men  who  are  the  biggest,  and  weigh  the  most  in 
^the  scales  %  Are  they  the  men  that  have  the  most  power  in  then' 
muscles,  Avhose  bones  are  as  flint,  and  whose  muscles  are  as  steel,  and 
-who  have  all  skill "?  Do  you  suppose  there  are  any  pugilists  in  New 
York,  or  anywhere  else,  that  enjoy  as  much  in  a  whole  year  as  I  enjoy 
in  a  day  1  I  laugh  them  to  scorn.  I  squander  more  joy  than  they  have, 
in  mere  wanton  mirthfulness.  What  is  there  in  the  pugUist  ?  A  few 
coarse,  brawling  passions.  Out  of  them,  wholly,  he  obtains  his  enjoy- 
ment. What  has  he "?  What  a  harp  has  which  has  one  bass-string 
left,  and  nothing  more.  From  that  frog-croaking  string  he  draws  all 
his  music.  But  I  have  forty  strings,  from  every  one  of  which  pro- 
iceeds  a  separate  tone.     And  all  this  enjoyment  that  I  have  is  infinitely 


TEE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING.  147 

more  than  his  mere  animal  enjoyment.  Large  as  he  is,  and  easily  as 
he  could  thrash  me,  I  thrash  him  every  moment.  I  live  in  my  reason, 
my  taste,  my  imagination,  and  my  moral  nature.  And  I  crow  over  him  ; 
I  triumph  over  him.  Everything  that  is  in  me  triumphs  over  him.  A 
big  man,  large,  free,  with  the  spirit  of  God  in  him — what  is  he  like  ? 
And  the  poor,  vulgar,  base  man — what  is  he  like?  The  animal  man  is 
like  a  frog  that  sits  on  the  edge  of  a  morass,  and  croaks  one  note,  one 
note,  one  note,  and  whose  life  consists  in  plumping  into  the  mud,  and 
getting  out  again,  and  croaking,  croaking. 

And  what  is  true  of  a  man,  opened  up  all  the  way  through,  clear 
to  the  highest  spiritual  realms  ?  Broad  as  the  creation  is  he,  and  his 
faculties  are  like  birds  that  sit  in  the  tops  of  trees,  and,  when  the 
morning  comes  and  wakes  them,  sing,  each  one  in  its  own  way,  thou- 
sands of  them  filling  the  air  above  and  all  the  earth,  and  making  the 
very  dew  wink  brighter,  and  look  sweeter.  Such  is  a  large  man,  full 
of  joy  from  top  to  bottom. 

It  is  said,  "  Christians  are  happy.  God  makes  them  happy."  God 
makes  every  man  happy  Avho  knows  how  to  play  on  himself  Every 
man  is  full  of  music  ;  but  it  is  not  every  man  that  knows  how  to  bring 
it  out.  I  might  live  in  the  house  with  this  organ  all  my  life  ;  but  if  I 
did  not  understand  music,  and  did  not  know  how  to  play,  being  where 
the  organ  was  would  do  me  no  good.  Most  men  are  magnificent 
organs,  but  they  do  not  know  how  to  play,  and  they  amuse  themselves 
by  whistling  through  the  pipes  that  are  in  them  ;  and  instead  of  de- 
veloping the  true  nature  that  God  put  in  them,  and  developing  the  tiTie 
purposes  which  God  had  in  their  creation,  they  spoil  themselves  for 
this  Ufe  because  they  are  unmindful  of  the  other  true  and  higher  life. 

Nay,  who  are  the  prosperous  men  in  this  world  ?  Are  they  the 
men  who  have  the  most  worldly  eclat  f  No.  A  man's  enjoyment  in 
this  world  does  not  lie  in  your  eyes,  nor  in  my  eyes.  It  is  not  what 
we  think  that  makes  a  man  happy. 

I  have  in  thought  a  man  that  holds  in  his  hands  almost  the  w.Tys 
of  life,  and  the  thorough fui'es  of  the  nation.  lie  is  not  bad,  as  t"\e 
world  goes.  He  is  well  nigh  unlimited  in  his  control  of  funds.  With 
two  or  three  others  he  could  almost  buy  the  continent.  And  men 
think  he  is  a  wonderful  man.  Yes,  in  many  respects  he  is.  But  the 
question  is  as  to  his  prosperity.  Let  us  open  him  up,  and  see  what 
wonderful  thing  is  in  him.  Have  you  the  key  to  this  man  '?  Yes,  I 
have  the  golden  key.  I  go  into  one  chamber.  It  is  called  taste.  There 
is  not  a  window  in  it.  Neither  is  there  a  carpet,  nor  a  picture,  nor  an 
instrument  of  music  in  it.  Shut  up  the  door  of  that  room.  I  go  into 
another  room,  called  honor.  It  is  a  cold,  dreary,  stone-wall  passage, 
dripping  with  moisture.     Shut  up  the  door  of  that  room.     It  is  not 


148  THE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVINa, 

tenanted.  I  go  on  and  open  the  door  of  conscience,  as  it  is  called. 
What  is  that  down  there  ?  Why,  it  is  a  wi-etch  lying  on  a  heap  of 
rotten  straw,  all  but  dead.  It  raises  its  head,  rnd  says,  "I  was  con- 
science; what  is  left  of  it  I  am."  Shut  up  the  door  of  this  sad 
room.  I  look  into  another  chamber — ^that  of  faith.  Well,  this  was 
an  apartment.  It  is  spacious  and  lofty ;  it  is  domed,  and  has  a  large, 
long  opening  to  the  sky.  It  is  constructed  as  if  some  instruments  were 
to  have  been  here.  Behold,  here  is  astronomical  machinery,  designed 
to  sweep  the  heavens.  But  nobody  is  here  to  use  it.  The  room  is 
desolate.  There  is  no  faith  here.  Shut  it  up.  And  so  I  go  on  from 
place  to  place,  and  through  chamber  after  chamber ;  and  every  one  of 
them  is  unfurnished,  dreary,  full  of  unpleasant  sights  and  sounds. 

Let  us  go  down  to  where  the  man  lives.  Let  us  go  down  where  sel- 
fishness and  avarice  dwell.  Now  we  begin  to  find  that  the  apartments 
are  occupied.  They  are  large,  and  in  them  are  vaults  filled  full  of  un- 
used gains.  Yes,  selfishness  is  strong,  and  pride  is  strong,  and  the 
animal  life  is  strong.  And  all  that  is  social,  all  that  is  sweet,  all  that 
is  generous,  and  all  that  is  divine,  is  utterly  lacking,  and  utterly  gone. 

There  is  that  prosperous  man.  Now  come  with  me.  Here  is  old 
Janet.  She  had  a  love  afiair,  the  boys  say,  when  she  was  about  seven- 
teen years  old,  and  somehow  got  jilted.  And  she  never  was  quite  the 
same  afterwards.  She  always  refused  company.  Well,  what  has  she 
been  doing  since  that  time  ?  Oh  !  she  was  kind  of  studying  tUl  her 
sister  was  married ;  and  then  she  went  to  live  with  her,  and  has  lived 
with  her  ever  since.  And  what  has  she  been  doing  ?  Well,  she  has 
been  taking  care  of  her  sister's  childi-en.  A  dependent,  is  she  ?  Yes, 
she  is  to  a  certain  extent  dependent  on  her  sister.  And  she  is  bringing 
up  the  youngsters?  Yes,  she  devotes  herself  to  the  care  of  her 
sister's  children. 

Let  us  go  through  her  heart — for  I  have  the  key  to  that,  also.  The 
first  apartment  is  sweet  contentment.  Everything  in  it  is  tranquil. 
There  is  a  low  sound,  as  of  music.  You  know  not  whence  it  comes. 
We  pass  through  chamber  after  chamber.  At  last  we  enter  the  cham- 
ber of  love.  Oh !  how  radiant  everything  is !  What  pictures  there 
are  hanging  upon  the  walls  !  How  many  there  are  that  resemble  the 
portraiture  of  friends  !  And  some  there  are  that  seem  to  look  back  to 
friends  that  are  gone.  We  step  out  from  the  room  of  love  into  the 
room  of  faith.  These  rooms  are  adjoining,  and  the  door  between  them 
is  never  closed.  They  throw  light  into  each  other.  And  how  bright 
are  these  upper  chambers  of  the  soul!  Perpetual  joy  reigns  there, 
morning,  noon,  and  night.  Come  near,  and  you  will  find  that  this 
woman's  heart  is  full  of  peace  and  gladness. 

What  is  she  doing  ?     She   is  living  for  others.     She  is  raising  up 


THE  TRVE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING.  149 

these  little  children.  She  is  like  the  fabled  eagle  that  is  said  to  have 
plucked  the  feathers  from  its  own  breast  to  shield  its  young.  She,  as 
it  were,  takes  her  own  heart  and  soul  out  to  make  a  nest  for  these 
fledglings.  And  though  they  are  not  her  own,  she  loves  them  better, 
and  suffers  more  for  them,  and  prays  for  them  more,  than  the  mother. 
Outwardly  she  seems  to  live  solitary;  but  God,  and  the  angel  band  that 
watch  over  her,  see  that  she  lives  inwai'dly  full  of  the  sweetest  content,, 
and  the  most  blessed  and  joyful  hope. 

Now,  I  put  this  old  Janet  over  against  the  milHonau-e,  and  ask  you 
which  is  the  most  prosperous.  One  has  all  the  body  and  all  the  pelf, 
and  the  other  all  the  soul  and  all  the  heaven.  Which  would  you  rather 
be  ?  As  long  as  you  are  here  in  the  church  you  would  rather  be 
Janet,  but  as  quick  as  you  get  out  of  the  door  there  you  would  rather 
be  this  man. 

Who  are  the  prosperous  men?  The  men  that  enjoy  the  most. 
The  men  that  enjoy  all  through.  Who  are  they  that  enjoy  all 
through?  The  men  that  take  God's  sunlight  on  top,  and  make  their 
life  radiant  from  the  top  to  the  bottom.  The  men  that  have  the  in- 
dwelling of  God's  spirit ;  the  men  that  are  sanctified,  and  that,  from 
theu'  topmost  feelings  to  their  lower  ones  are  at  rest — they  are  the 
men  that  are  capable  of  enjoying  most.  He  is  the  prince,  not  who 
wears  the  crown  outside,  but  who  wears  the  crown  inside.  And  he  is 
the  rich  man,  not  who  carries  money,  but  who  carries  that  which  buys 
what  money  cannot.  He  is  the  man  that  has  the  fullest  life  who 
seems  outwardly  to  have  the  worst  of  life,  to  those  that  are  not  in- 
structed to  look  at  him.  Let  him,  therefore,  that  would  have  life,  aim 
high,  and  he  shall  have  it.     But  if  he  aims  low  he  shall  lose  it. 

4.  This  leads  me  to  speak  of  the  hollow  and  rotten  success  of  the 
generation  of  men  who  have  crept  into  high  places  of  the  state  and 
the  nation,  who  dazzle  the  eyes  of  men,  who  heap  up  riches,  who  are 
more  or  less  powerful,  who  walk  in  a  vain  show,  and  who  are  deluding 
the  minds  of  men,  and  making  young  men  think  that  there  is  no  use  in 
moral  principle,  and  no  use  in  scruples — that  it  is  only  the  bold  hand 
and  unscrujnxlous  heart  that  succeed  in  this  world.  There  is  a  state  of 
abounding  wickedness  which  is  alai'raing. 

Among  the  bad  effects  of  our  civil  war,  which  in  the  name  of  God 
we  will  resist  and  slay,  (though  it  also  brought  about  many  good  effects, 
that  are  going  to  do  much  toward  the  regeneration  of  this  nation,)  is 
that  most  unbounded  ambition  for  money  which  is  breaking  out  on  every 
side,  so  that  it  would  seem  as  though  there  were  almost  no  barriers ;  as 
though  nothing  could  withstand  its  touch.  And  old  honesty,  and  old 
trust,  and  old  scruples,  and  old-fashioned  honor,  seem  likely  to  go  down. 
Upright  and  honorable  men  are  diiven  into  obscurity,  and  the  high 


150  THE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING. 

places  are  held,  and  the  laws  are  made  and  administered,  by  men  who 
pervert  official  trusts  in  such  a  way  as  to  put  vutue  to  shame,  and  make 
vice  triumphant.  The  condition  of  our  cities  is  very  rotten ;  and  the 
worst  of  it  is,  that  when  there  is  exposure  of  corruption  in  officials  and 
courts  and  legislatures,  the  moral  and.  Christian  sentiment  of  the  com- 
munity is  scarcely  shocked,  and  does  not  rebound ;  and  still  the  same 
men  go  back  again  by  the  votes  of  those  very  men  who  are  said  to  be 
the  conservators  of  the  community.  And  this  state  of  things  has  been 
induced  very  largely  by  that  "love  of  money"  which  "is  the  root  of 
aU  evil." 

Now,  I  have  no  uncertainty  about  this.  It  is  not  going  to  continue. 
These  men  are  rotten ;  and  they  are  not  going  to  prosper.  Do  you 
want  to  hear  then-  portraits  described  %  Why,  there  is  a  picture-gallery 
here  that  has  more  portraits  in  it  than  you  ever  dreamed  of.  See  if 
you  cannot  recognize  some  men  that  do  not  live  a  thousand  miles  from 
you! 

"  I  was  envious  at  the  foolish  when  I  saw  the  prosperity  of  the  wicked." 
If  he  had  lived  with  us,  he  would  have  had  lots  of  sights  on  that 
subject. 

"  For  there  are  no  bands  in  their  death ;  but  their  strength  is  firm. 
They  are  not  in  trouble  as  other  men  ;  neither  are  they  plagued  like  other 
men." 

Oh  !  it  is  such  a  plague  to  be  virtuous !     It  is  an  annoyance  to  a 

great  many  people. 

"  Therefore  pride  compasseth  them  about  as  a  chain  ;  violence  covereth 
them  as  a  garment.  Their  eyes  stand  out  with  fiitness ;  they  have  more  than 
heart  could  wish.  They  are  corrupt,  and  speak  wickedly  concerning  op- 
pression ;  they  speak  loftily.  They  set  their  mouth  against  the  heavens,  and 
their  tongue  walketh  through  the  earth.  Therefore  his  people  return  hither; 
and  waters  of  a  full  cup  are  wrung  out  to  them.  And  they  say,  How  doth 
God  know  ?  and  is  there  knowledge  in  the  Most  High  ?" 

Atheism  and  corruption  go  hand  in  hand. 

"  Behold,  these  are  the  ungodly,  who  prosper  in  the  world ;  they  in- 
crease in  riches.  Verily  I  have  cleansed  my  heart  in  vain,  and  washed  my 
hands  in  innocency.  For  all  the  day  long  have  I  been  plagued,  and  chast- 
ened every  morning." 

Now  comes  the  rebound. 

"If  I  say,  I  will  speak  thus  :  behold,  I  should  offend  against  the  genera- 
tion of  thy  children.     When  I  thought  to  know  this,  it  was  too  painful  for 
me ;  until  I  went  into  the  sanctuary  of  God ;  then  understood  I  their  end. 
Surely  thou  didst  set  them  in  slippeiy  places;  thou  castedest  them  down     i 
into  destruction.     How  are  they  brought  into  desolation,  as  in  a  moment !     j 
they  are  utterly  consumed  with  terrors.     As  a  dream  when  one  awaketh ;     j 
so,  O  Lord,  when  thou  awakest,  thou  shalt  despise  their  image." 

Wickedness  is  not  the  normal  condition  of  the  earth.  Righteous-  { 
ness  is  God's  law ;  and  the  law  of  rectitude  is  as  absolute  and  as  im-  ( 
perative  as  any  material  and  physical  law.  And  men  that  expect  to  \ 
prosper,  and  to  maintain  prosperity  at  the  expense  of  moral  laws,  are    n 


THE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING.  151 

just  as  foolish  as  men  who  expect  to  violate  the  laws  of  the  brain  and 
the  lungs  and  the  stomach,  and  still  be  healthy.  It  is  but  for  a  day.  It 
is  a  vain  show.  And  let  no  man  be  deluded  into  supposing  that  it 
makes  no  difference  how  he  lives.  If  that  is  life,  lose  it.  If  you  ai-e 
obliged  to  lose  your  life  in  order  to  maintain  your  manhood,  lose  the 
life  and  save  the  manhood  ;  and  in  the  long  run  you  wUl  find  that  the 
manhood  to  preserve  which  seems  to  require  the  casting  away  of  every 
thing,  will  biing  back  more  of  the  world  than  you  could  get  otherwise. 
You  will  have  the  life  which  noAV  is,  as  well  as  that  which  is  to  come. 

5.  All  that  are  seeking  good  by  worldly  ways  ;  all  that  are  seeking 
their  whole  good  in  the  world ;  all  that  are  employing  this  scene  of 
time,  this  experiment  of  probationary  mortal  life,  in  such  a  way  that 
they  shall  have  the  labor,  the  toil,  and  not  the  renumeration  nor  the 
result,  ai-e  included  under  this  general  truth  of  which  I  have  been 
speaking.  There  are  multitudes  of  men  that  do  not  live  wisely  even 
for  this  world.  They  use  up  eveiything  in  childhood  which  should 
have  been  distributed  along  the  whole  of  their  life.  But  there  are 
some  who  use  their  childhood  and  youth  wisely,  and  lay  up  for  man- 
hood ;  and  so  they  save  the  whole  of  their  life  now,  by  that  veiy 
economic  experience  which  has  led  you  to  economize  the  forces  of  early 
life,  and  middle  life,  for  the  sake  of  the  whole  of  life,  that  you  may  lift 
your  average  condition  higher. 

I  condemn  those,  therefore,  in  regard  to  these  matters,  who  are  liv- 
ing in  such  ways  that  at  the  best  they  shall  reap  this  world  and  lose 
the  other.  And  it  is  to  such  that  the  Master  addresses  the  solemn 
words,  "  What  shall  it  profit  a  man,  if  he  gain  the  whole  world,  and 
lose  his  own  soul  T  I  do  not  blame  you  because  you  love  your  friends ; 
but  I  do  blame  you  because  you  love  them  in  such  a  way  that  you  will 
Avaste  your  love  upon  them.  I  do  not  blame  you  for  building  your 
houses  and  making  them  beautiful ;  but  I  do  blame  you  that  you  know 
enough  to  do  that,  and  yet  do  not  build  that  other  house,  and  make  it 
still  more  beautiful.  I  do  not  blame  you  for  sagacity  and  foresight  and 
wisdom  in  business  ;  but  that  wisdom  which  teaches  you  economy  in 
the  lower  life  ought  to  teach  you  still  more  forcibly  in  regard  to  the 
higher  life.  I  do  not  blame  any  man  because  he  thinks  it  wise  to 
insure  his  property  against  fire  or  destruction  by  accident ;  but  I  do 
blame  a  man  if  he  knows  enough  to  insure  his  houses  and  horses  and 
dogs,  and  leaves  his  soul  all  uninsured,  and  to  the  chances  and  acci- 
dents of  the  unknown  and  invisible  world.  I  bring  up  the  wisdom, 
with  which  you  conduct  your  lower  life,  to  sit  in  judgement  upon  the' 
folly  with  which  you  squander  your  higher  life.  You  are  living  for 
the  flesh.  You  are  living  for  the  things  which  ai-e  this  side  of  the- 
horizon  of  deatL     You  are  living  for  time ;  and  yet  eternity  is  im- 


162  TEE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING. 

pending.  It  would  seem  as  though  all  the  past  were  but  the  thought 
and  the  hint  of  the  existence  of  that  eternity ;  and  yet,  you  are 
squandering  before  you  reach  it  what  you  will  need  there.  You  are 
losing  tlie  other  life  because  you  are  determined  to  have  this  life.  You 
want  this  world,  and  you  are  paying  the  whole  of  the  other  world 
for  it. 

May  God  grant  that  wisdom  to  you  by  which  you  shall  understand 
that  he  who  lives  rightly  for  heaven  inherits  the  earth  ;  while  he  who 
inherits  the  earth  first  forfeits  heaven.  *'  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of 
God,  and  his  righteousness,  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto 
you." 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

Our  Heavenly  Father,  thou  hast  made  the  way  to  thy  feet  plain  and  pleas- 
ant to  us.  We  once  sought  thee  as  strangers,  seeking  a  strange  place  in  a 
strange  far  country ;  but  now  we  are  children  of  our  home,  and  have  been 
made  so  well  acquainted  with  thee,  that  it  is  as  drawing  near  to  our  Father's 
bouse.  And  as  there  were  around  about  our  home  in  childhood  a  thousand 
associations  which  cannot  die  out,  and  after  which  we  go  back,  now  renew- 
ing pleasure  at  every  step,  so,  besides  what  we  get  of  thee  from  day  to  day 
in  asking,  there  are  all  the  sweet  memories  of  the  past ;  all  the  times  of  sorrow 
in  which  we  came  trooping  to  thee,  and  went  away  walking  erect  as  the 
sons  of  God  ;  all  the  days  in  which  we  went  to  thee  full  of  uncertainty  and 
doubt,  and  went  away  seeing  and  most  happy.  We  have  been  to  thee  with 
heavy  burdens ;  and  though  sometimes  the  burdens  were  taken  away,  of- 
tener  thou  hast  given  us  strength  to  bear  them.  We  have  been  to  thee  in 
times  of  remorse  and  shame :  and  so  gracious  wert  thou  that  we  forgot  to  be 
ashamed,  and  only  admired  and  adored  the  greatness  and  goodness  of  thy 
Boul.  And  now  we  have  learned  to  think  of  thee  as  ineffable  in  love.  Un- 
speakably kind  art  thou.  Our  thoughts  praise  thee  better  than  our  lips  can. 
Silently  we  are  more  to  thee  than  we  can  be  in  open  petition.  And  thou 
lookest  upon  our  souls,  O  blessed  Father,  and  dost  accept  the  incense  of 
praise  and  gratitude,  the  thoughts  of  love,  and  the  joys  that  sing  to  thee 
silently. 

We  rejoice  that  thou  art  such  an  One,  and  that  there  is  such  affluence 
of  understanding  between  thee  and  us.  Looking  out  of  thy  greatness 
as  from  a  palace,  thou  dost  behold  us,  though  we  are  poor,  and  draw  near 
to  thee  in  all  our  insignificance.  But  we  are  to  be  like  thee.  This  is  thy 
work — to  draw  us  up  out  of  these  beginnings,  that  seem  so  far  away  and  so 
poor,  to  a  glorious  ending.  As  from  seeds  that  are  most  insignificant,  we 
behold  the  vines  and  blossoms  that  come  in  all  their  glory,  when  the  sun 
hath  wrought  long  enough  at  them ;  so  thou  dost,  out  of  this  miserable  bo- 
ginning  of  human  life,  work  up  finally  the  glory  of  immortality.  And  thou 
dost  bring  forth  out  of  homeliness  rare  beauty ;  and  out  of  hated  things, 
things  most  sweet  and  beautiful.  We  bless  thee,  that  thou  art  working  in 
us,  and  rejoice  that  it  is  God  that  worketh  in  us  to  will  and  to  do.  For 
who  could  possibly  tind  his  way  to  manhood,  who  could  withstand  all  the 


I 


THE  TRUE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVI^^'G.  153 

temptations  and  -wiles  -ffhich  beset  ns,  withont  thy  help?  It  is  because  we 
are  oruitled  and  guarded  and  evermore  inspired,  that  we  have  hope  that  we 
shall  persevere  unto  the  end,  and  tinally  lie  saved;  and  that  we  shall  be  ex- 
alted into  glory  and  honor  and  immortality ;  and  that  beauty  shall  descend 
upon  us  to  depart  no  more;  and  that  all  those  things  which  cause  us,  here 
on  earth,  weakness,  and  pain,  and  shame,  shall  pass  away  and  return  no  more 
forever. 

And  now,  O  Lord  our  God  !  we  thank  thee  for  all  thy  faithfulness.  We 
beseech  of  thee  that  we  may  not  provoke  it  by  our  continuous  pride;  by 
our  hardness  of  heart;  by  our  indocility.  We  do  not  know,  as  thou  dost, 
how  poor  and  needy  we  are;  and  yet  we  know  and  feel  that  we  are  needy 
every  day.  And  to-day  we  come  to  be  filled  with  generous  affections.  We 
desire,  to-day,  to  have  our  faith  made  more  comprehensive,  and  bolder. 
To-day  we  desire,  by  hope,  to  take  possession  of  the  things  that  are  ours. 
Come  hither,  as  we  have,  from  every  source  and  every  quarter  of  life ;  come 
hither,  as  many  of  us  have,  in  troubles,  under  burdens,  and  with  crosses  and 
yokes  to  bear ;  come  hither,  as  many  of  us  have,  from  poverty,  and  anxiety, 
and  distress,  and  bereavements,  and  anguish  of  soul,  our  wants  are  plain  to 
thee,  thou  Bounty-giver.  And  for  every  one  thou  hast  a  message  of  duty 
to-day.  And  as,  in  the  garden,  thou  didst  call  Mary  byname,  and  she  knew 
thee,  so  silently  call  by  name  every  one  in  thy  presence  to-day,  that  each  one 
may  know  that  it  is  the  Saviour,  and  their  Saviour,  drawing  near  for  mercy; 
knowing  them  altogether — a  High  priest  that  can  be  touched  with  the  feel- 
ing of  infirmities,  and  has  been  tempted  in  all  points  as  we  are,  and  yet  with- 
out sin,  and  is  able  to  succor  those  that  come  boldly  now  to  the  throne  of 
grace,  to  obtain  mercy  and  help  in  time  of  need.  Oh!  look  upon  all  whose 
need  is  great  at  this  time.  Look  upon  all  that  need  thee,  and  know  it ;  and 
upon  all  those,  more  wretched,  who  need  thee,  and  know  it  not. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  that  we  may  be  awakened  to 
things  beyond  our  senses,  and  beyond  the  range  of  this  earthly  life.  Grant 
that  we  may  come  into  the  full  faith  and  rojoicing  of  our  whole  manhood, 
ns  we  stand  in  Christ  Jesus.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  fill  the  hearts  of 
all  that  come  hither  to-day  with  thy  morcies,  as  they  severally  nocd.  Strength- 
en the  weak.  Inspire  hope  in  the  desponding.  Give  consolation  to  those 
tliat  are  afflicted.  Teach  wisdom  to  those  that  lack  it,  and  ask  tlue.  And  grant, 
we  pray  thee,  that  there  may  be  an  inspiration  that  shall  lead  arijrht  those  that 
look  to  thee  for  direction  in  perplexing  circumstances  in  lite.  Be  all  things  to 
all,  tide  morninff.  Make  every  one  to  I'eel  how  gracious  and  how  condescending 
and  how  aboundins:  is  his  God, 

We  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord!  that  thou  wilt  look  upon  all  those  that  are 
gathered  this  day  to  worship  thee,  strangers  in  a  strange  land;  and  grant 
that  they  may  find  here  their  mother,  their  father,  and  their  brethren,  in 
their  Father's  house.  And  look  upon  their  heart-yearnings.  Look  upon 
all  their  ways  and  desires.  And  grant  that  they  may  be  surprised  by  God's 
great  goodness  this  day.     Crown  them  abundantly  with  thy  blessings. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  look  upon  all  those,  this  day,  that  are 
coming  to  thee  and  asking  for  righteousness,  and  hungering  and  thirsting 
for  higher  disclosures  of  thy  nature,  and  for  higher  ways  of  life.  May  they, 
O  Lord  !  be  filled — for  thou  has  promised  it- 
Draw  near  to  those  that  to-day  would  see  thee,  the  Chief  among  ten 
thousand,  altogether  lovely.  Reveal  thyself  unto  them  as  thou  dost  not  unto 
the  world.  Be  near  to  all  those,  we  beseech  of  thee,  who  are  here  to-day, 
looking  wistfully  upon  the  face  of  things,  and  yet  knowing  that  they  are 
not  thine,  and  their  life  is  not  according  to  truth,  nor  according  to'the  word 
of  the  Lord.  And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  tliou  wilt  inspire  them  with  a 
nobler  purpose,  with  a  more  generous  determination.  May  they  be  able  to 
contradict  and  throw  away  their  old  life.  May  they  be  able  to  take  on  a 
new  life  in  Christ  Jesus.  INIay  they  be  able  to  take  a  higher  measure,  and  to 
live  hereafter  by  a  nobler  ideal.  And  we  beseech  of  thee  tliat  thy  kingdom 
may  come,  and  that  thy  will  may  be  done,  in  hearts  that  are  now  rebelliouat 


154  THE  TBTJE  ECONOMY  OF  LIVING. 

Among  the  outcast  and  the  needy,  O  Lord,  our  God,  be  thou  found ;  and 
raise  up  many  that  shall  go  forth  out  of  a  living  experience,  to  teach  a  new 
Gospel — the  old  Gosjiel  made  new  by  the  experience  of  the  heart  that 
teaches  it. 

And  we  pray  that  love  may  prevail  everywhere.  We  long  for  a  time 
when  the  passions  shall  not  be  in  ascendency;  when  faith  and  righteousness 
and  true  holiness  shall  rule  in  all  the  earth;  when  our  laws  shall  be  made 
in  the  spirit  of  justice,  and  executed  impartially;  and  when  all  our  officers 
shall  be  men  of  righteouness,  seeking  God's  favor  and  the  welfare  of  man. 
When  shall  the  day  come,  that  the  earth  shall  be  no  more  ravaged  ?  How 
long  is  it  needful  to  wait  ?  O  thou  that  dwellest  in  clouds  and  darkness!  O 
thou  that  seemest  to  be  slumbering  through  ages,  but  that  never  slumberest 
nor  sleepestlwhen  wilt  thou  come  forth  ?  When  shall  this  guilty  term  end  '\ 
When  shall  men  awake  and  come  forth  from  all  their  degradations  ?  When 
shall  wars  cease,  and  superstitions,  with  all  their  cruelties,  pass  away  ?  When 
shall  knowledge  shine  brightly,  bringing  men  to  love  and  to  God  ?  Hasten 
that  day,  O  Lord,  we  beseech  thee,  when  nations  shall  learn  war  no  more; 
when  justice  shall  be  the  stability  of  the  times;  when  righteousness  shall 
prevail;  when  nations  shall  seek  each  other's  good;  when  the  spirit  of  the 
beast  shall  pass  from  out  of  the  earth,  and  the  spirit  of  men  in  Christ  shall 
come  to  take  its  place.  For  thou  hast  promised  that  the  whole  earth  shall 
see  thy  glory.  Let  it  dawn.  Even  so,  Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly;  for  the 
whole  earth  doth  wait  for  thee,  and  in  thine  absence  is  dark  and  sad  and 
sorrowful. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  this  day  thou  wilt  strengthen  the  hands  of 
all  those  that  are  setting  forth  the  kingdom  of  our  dear  Saviour.  Be  with 
those  that  are  in  destitute  places,  far  remote  from  civilization.  Remember 
those  that  are  in  sickness  and  under  discouragements,  seeking  in  new  states 
to  lay  the  foundations  for  future  generations.  Comfort  them.  Give  them 
holier  thoughts  than  other  men  have  for  the  vicissitudes  of  their  life.  And 
we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  raise  up  more  and  more  to  teach  every- 
where the  poor  and  the  ignorant.  And  grant  that  men  may  be  inspired  by 
thy  example,  and  by  the  example  of  holy  men  in  every  age,  to  go  forth, 
doing  good  to  their  fellows,  seeking  not  their  own, but  others  welfare. 

And  so  let  thy  kingdom  be  advanced,  let  thy  will  be  done,  on  earth  as  it 
is  in  heaven,  and  all  the  world  filled  with  thy  glory. 

Which  we  ask  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  TIIE  SERMOK 

Command  thy  blessing,  Our  Father,  to  rest  upon  the  word  which  we 
have  spoken.  Grant  that  we  may  arouse  ourselves  as  becomes  men,  and 
look  at  truth  as  becomes  the  sons  of  God.  May  we  never  forget  our  birth, 
our  lineage,  our  destiny.  May  we  hear  in  ourselves  the  calls  from  the  heav- 
enly land.  All  those  monitions,  all  those  fugitive  inspirations,  all  those 
yearnings,  and  hungerings,  and  unsatisfied  appetites,  which  the  soul  knows, 
may  we  understand  to  be  thy  call.  Send  forth  from  the  land  beyond,  O 
our  Father !  those  messengers  that  shall  hail  us,  and  lead  us,  and  guide  us 
to  thy  heavenly  estate.  Let  us  not  be  content  to  build  three  tabernacles 
here,  though  it  be  even  on  the  mount  of  transfiguration.  May  we  be  stran- 
gers'and  pilgrims  on  earth,  seeking  another  and  a  better  country,  even  an 
heavenly  one.  Bring  us  there  that  we  may  see  each  other.  Grant  that  there 
we  may  see  all  that  we  have  known  and  loved  on  earth.  Grant  that,  behold- 
ing the  light  of  thy  countenance,  and  loving  thee  supremely,  we  may  be 
strengthened  to  a  grander  love  than  we  have  known  upon  earth.  And  to 
the  Father,  the  Son  and  the  Spirit,  shall  be  praises  everlasting.    Armn. 


IX. 

Law  of  Hereditary  Influence. 


LAYf  Of  HEREDITARY  INFLUENCE. 


"  V'-sit)"^  the  iniquity  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children,  and  upon  the 
*hiklraD's  children,  unto  the  third  and  to  the  fourth  generation." — Exod. 


This  is  the  abrupt  close  of  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  passage  in 
the  whole  Scripture.  We  are  accustomed  to  think  that  the  knowledge 
of  God's  character,  like  all  other  human  knowledges,  has  been  subject 
to  an  unfolding  process  ;  that  it  dawned  little  by  little  upon  the  world ; 
that  at  first  God  was  taught  as  the  Source  of  power,  the  Author  of  all 
phenomena ;  that  he  was  monarchic  and  governmental ;  and  that  in  the 
amelioration  of  manners,  and  in  the  growth  of  civility  and  of  afiec- 
tion,  there  was  a  preparation  made  to  teach  larger  and  more  interior 
views  of  God ;  namely,  what  may  be  called  the  domesticity  of  the  di- 
vine nature — his  private  and  personal  sympathies  and  aifections. 

And  so,  when  we  have  arranged  this  theory  of  the  gradual  opening 
of  the  divine  character  upon  the  world  according  to  the  most  approved 
modern  notions  of  science,  suddenly  there  blazes  up  on  the  far  horizon 
of  time  the  most  perfect  description  of  God  that  yet  exists ;  and  not 
only  the  most  perfect,  but  the  earliest.  There  it  stands,  tlie  fullest  and 
sweetest  and  most  perfect  description  of  divine  mercy  and  love.  Lis- 
ten to  this  description,  which  was  given  thousands  of  years  ago  : 

"  The  Lord  passed  by  before  him,  and  proclaimed.  The  Lord,  the  Lord 
God,  merciful  and  gracious,  long-suffering,  and  abundant  La  goodness  and 
truth,  keeping  mercy  for  thousands,  forgiving  iniquity  and  transgression  and 
sin,  and  that  will  by  no  means  clear  the  guilty." 

And  then,  abruptly,  we  fall  on  that  passage  which  we  have  selected 
for  our  text — the  doctrine  of  hereditaiy  influence : 

"Visiting  the  iniquity  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children,  and  upon  the 
children's  children,  unto  the  third  and  to  the  fourth  generation." 

As  it  surprises  us  to  find  antedating  our  philosophy  this  moral 
character  of  God,  so  one  may  be  surprised,  also,  to  see,  long  before  the 
era  of  science,  this  clear  disclosure  of  that  givat  principle  which  per- 
vades human  life,  and  which  modern  science  is  now  beginning  to  form- 
ulate, and  to  teach  as  a  principle — the  transmission  of  hereditary  influ- 
ences, good  and  bad. 

Rt'ndat  Evenino.  May  1,  1870.  LESSON:  PsA.  XXVXL  Htmns  rPlymonth  Colleotion)  i 
Koa.  249,  U06,  l}iiJ3. 


156  LAW  OF  EEREDITAR 7  INFL UENCE. 

Some  have  thought  that  men  existed  before  they  lived  in  this  world. 
It  is  a  pleasing  di'eam.  It  can  claim  to  be  nothing  more  than  that. 
But  admitting  it  to  be  so,  they  certainly  were  not  consulted  as  respects 
their  introduction  into  this  life.  It  is  not  given  to  any  of  us  to  say 
when,  nor  where,  nor  of  whom,  we  shall  ■  be  born,  nor  what  circum- 
stances shall  surround  us.  We  are  born  into  life  finding  nature  already 
completed.  Her  works  are  infrangible,  inevitable.  We  are  placed 
within  the  circuit  of  a  system  the  minutest  part  of  which  has.  been  de- 
termined ;  and  we  are  not  at  liberty  to  overleap  that  cii'cuit.  Nei- 
ther can  we  creep  under  it,  nor  in  any  way  turn  aside  from  it  We 
are  born  into  a  world  where  the  whole  economy  of  things  was  arrang- 
ed before  we  came  hither ;  and  we  are  obliged  to  take  things  as  we 
find  them.  And  the  circuit  within  which  we  have  any  power  to  form 
or  change  issues  is  very  narrow.  There  is  a  cu-cuit  of  liberty  ;  but  it 
is  a  very  narrow  cii'cuitj  within  wide  bounds  of  arbitrary  and  absolute 
enforcement. 

Among  the  things  Trhlch  we  find  fixed  inevitably  in  this  life,  is  the 
eircumstance,  tlie  necessity,  of  exerting  influence  and  receiving  influ- 
ence. There  is  no  evidence  that  this  economy  pervades  the  vegetable 
world.  We  see  no  proof  that  one  plant  acts  directly  upon  others.  It 
is  true  that  a  tree  afiects  the  things  that  grow  near  it ;  but  the  tree 
does  not  act  directly  on  those  things.  It  prevents  a  certain  influence 
from  being  exerted  upon  them  by  interposing  itself  between  the  sun 
and  them.  But  men  cannot  stand  alone  in  juxtaposition  without  more 
than  simply  afiecting  each  other  in  this  way.  Men  are  made  curiously, 
marvelously,  both  to  exert  and  to  receive  influence ;  and  it  is  difficult  to 
to  determine  which  tendency  is  the  strongest.  They  are  equipollent, 
probably.  In  some,  perhaps,  they  may  not  be  exactly  balanced ;  but 
the  average  is  about  the  same. 

The  mind  of  man  is  unlike  the  attributes  of  the  lower  and  nascent 
races.  The  nature  of  the  human  mind  is  such  that  a  man  must  take 
on  influence  from  all  that  are  around  about  him,  and  must  give  out  in- 
fluence upon  all  that  are  around  about  him.  We  have  no  choice  in 
the  matter.  Except  by  self-immuring,  or  absolute  seclusion,  we  cannot 
break  the  force  of  this  law.  We  do  not  alone  influence  men  when  we 
purpose  to  do  it.  When  we  bring  the  enginery  of  thought  and  emo- 
tion to  bear,  and  determine  voluntarily  to  produce  eflEects  upon  men, 
then,  to  be  sure,  we  influence  them  ;  but  more  often  we  influence  them 
when  we  do  not  think  of  it  even.     We  cannot  help  ourselves. 

It  is  impossible  for  a  stove  in  an  apartment,  being  filled  with  fuel, 
and  the  fuel  being  set  on  fii-e,  to  retain  its  heat.  It  has  to  tlirow  it 
out.  And  it  is  impossible  for  a  man,  living  under  the  stimulus  of 
power  and  emotion,  to  retain  his  influence.  He  must  throw  it  out 
upon  men  that  are  round  about  him. 


LA  W  OF  HEREDITAR  T  INFL  UENCE.  157 

We  are  born  into  a  life  where  we  cannot  determine  the  nature  of 
the  influences  which  we  exert.  We  can  repress  some,  modify  others, 
and  develop  still  others;  but  we  cannot  determine  the  effect,  nor 
change  it.     A  certain  infliience  we  must  exert  one  upon  another. 

First,  we  will  mention  voluntary  influence,  or  the  capacity  which 
we  have  gained  of  influencing  om*  fellow  men  by  bringing  power,  or 
the  causes  of  power,  to  bear  upon  them  on  purpose.  This  is  the  more 
fomiliar  form  of  influence  ;  and  it  needs,  therefore,  the  less  exposition. 
It  is  the  foundation  of  all  instruction.  The  parent  influences  the  child 
on  purpose.  The  teacher  ]nn-posely  influences  all  the  minds  that  are 
brought  under  his  care.  Friends  influence  friends.  We  draw  men  to 
our  way  of  thinking,  and  to  our  way  of  acting.  We  persuade  ;  we 
dissuade  ;  we  urge  ;  we  enforce  our  urgency  ;  and  in  a  thousand  ways 
we  voluntarily  draw  men  to  and  fi'o.  This  is  the  secret  of  poetry  ;  it 
is  the  secret  of  oratory  ;  it  is  the  secret  of  power  in  life,  man  with 
man. 

IIow  wide  the  scope,  how  vast  the  sum  of  it  is,  in  any  man's  indi- 
vidual life,  no  one  can  tell.  All  the  things  that  you  do  to-day  or  to- 
morrow, all  the  things  from  wliich  your  motives  spring — the  basilar 
influences,  the  intermediate  influences,  the  coronal  or  moral  influences, 
the  various  elements  that  you  develop  directly  in  men — these  things, 
going  on  in  an  endless  series,  through  forty,  fifty,  sixty,  seventy, 
eighty  years — who  can  estimate  them  %  Who  can  form  a  conception 
ef  all  the  power  that  one  thus  exerts  through  so  long  a  period  of  time? 
Who  can  measure  it  ?  Who  can  gather  up  in  any  computation  the 
volume  of  light  and  heat  that  has  been  cast  out  from  the  solar  orb 
through  centuries  ?  Who  can  tell  what  the  stars  have  emitted  of  their 
own  or  reflected  light  ?  Who  can  form  any  idea  of  the  amount  of 
light  and  heat  which  the  sun  has  given  forth  ? 

Now,  take  tliat  more  fugitive  and  less  computable  clement,  the 
direct  influence  which  the  positive  exertion  of  thought,  and  emotion, 
and  sentiment  and  passion,  has  produced  upon  our  fellow  men. 

Then,  besides  all  this,  besides  what  we  do  on  purpose,  besides  what 
we  set  out  to  do,  there  is  the  other  element  of  unconscious  influence 
which  men  exert — that  which  our  nature  throws  out  without  our  voli- 
tion. For  I  hold  that  it  is  with  us  as  it  is  with  the  sun.  I  do  not  sup- 
pose that  the  sun  ever  thinks  of  raising  the  thermometer ;  but  it  does 
raise  it.  Wherever  the  sun  shines  warmly,  the  mercury  goes  up, 
although  the  sun  and  the  instrument  are  both  unconscious.  And  we 
are  incessantly  emitting  influences,  good,  bad  or  negative.  We  are  per- 
petually, by  the  force  of  life,  throwing  out  froTu  ourselves  impercepti- 
ble influences.  And  yet,  the  sum  of  these  intiueuces  is  of  the  utmost 
weight  and  importance  in  life. 


158  LAW  OF  HEBEDITAE Y  INFL UENCE, 

A  single  word  spoken,  you  know  not  "wliat  it  falls  upon.  You 
know  not  on  what  soul  it  rests.  In  some  moods,  words  fall  off  from 
us,  and  are  of  no  account.  But  there  are  other  moods  in  which  a 
word  of  hoj^e,  a  word  of  cheer,  a  word  of  sympathy,  is  as  balm.  It 
changes  the  sequence  of  thought,  and  the  whole  order  and  direction 
of  the  mind.  A  single  word  is  often  like  a  switch  on  a  railroad, 
which,  although  it  is  a  point  almost  too  fine  to  be  seen,  yet  is  sufiicient, 
when  turned,  to  change  the  course  of  the  train  from  one  track  to 
another,  and  perhaps  from  one  road  to  another.  Single  words  have 
often  switched  men  off  from  bad  courses,  or  off  from  good  ones,  as  the 
case  may  be.  Many  and  many  a  man,  by  a  simple  action  which  was 
born  of  virtue,  and  which  passed  by  him  unconsciously,  h,as  determined 
the  fate  of  those  who  were  looking  up  to  him.  A  good  man  stands 
in  the  community  as  a  tree  stands  on  a  lawn  in  summer,  full  of  blos- 
soms, of  which  it  is  unconscious,  but  which  every  one  who  goes  past 
the  lawn  sees,  and  blesses  the  tree  for.  The  sweet  odor  of  the  apple- 
tree  is  wafted  in  every  direction,  and  myriads  are  participators  of  its 
life  and  eflloresence,  or  of  its  after-fruit.  And  so  a  great  nature  stands 
forth  in  bud,  and  in  blossom,  and  in  after  maturation,  and  there  go  out 
from  him  in  every  direction  influences  for  instruction,  confirmation, 
inspiration.  A  thousand  things  which  the  man  never  thought  to  do, 
he  does.  More  are  the  things  which  you  do,  not  meaning  to  do  them, 
than  are  the  things  which  you  do,  intending  to  do  them. 

It  is  the  simple  weight  of  being,  it  is  the  inevitable  radiation  of 
thought  and  emotion,  which  produces  a  disturbance  in  other  men's 
minds,  and  in  the  processes  of  then*  thought.  A  single  example, 
silent,  unspeaking  by  vocalization,  but  characterized  by  purity,  by  sim- 
pUcity,  crystalline  and  heavenly,  has  sweetened  whole  neighborhoods. 
And  as  the  wax-taper  burns  in  the  temple  by  night,  unconscious  both 
of  its  own  substance  and  of  the  light  which  it  emits,  so  there  be  many 
persons  who,  in  their  humility,  count  themselves  to  be  doing  nothing 
in  life,  but  who  are  diffusing  the  divinest  influences  in  every  direction. 
Fidelity,  disinterestedness  in  love,  pure  peacefulness,  love  of  God,  and! 
faith  in  invisible  things,  cannot  exist  in  a  man  without  having  their] 
effect  upon  his  fellow  men.  It  is  impossible  that  one  should  stand  up 
in  the  midst  of  a  community  and  simply  be  good,  and  not  diffuse  the] 
influence  of  that  goodness  on  every  side. 

And  the  reach  is  incalculable.  I  have  heard  persons  say  that  theyj 
seemed  to  themselves  to  be  doing  nothing  in  life.  No  man  and  noj 
woman  that  is  faitlifuUy  following  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  can  be  said  to! 
be  doing  nothing.  It  is  not  the  eloquent  tongue  that  speaks  the  most] 
It  is  not  the  heroic  action  which  men  sound  forth  that  is,  after  all,  the 
most  potential  in  the  affau-s  of  men.     The  symmetrical  example  of  holy 


LAW  OF  nEREDITARY  INFLUENCE.  159 

souls  has  a  voice  which  sounds  ©ut  further,  and  reaches  forth  si  hand 
that  is  felt  further,  than  more  positive  and  more  declarative  influences. 

That  which  is  true  of  goodness  is  true,  also,  of  evil.  Men  who  are 
under  the  influence  of  the  malign  passions  are  sowing  the  seeds  of 
these  passions.  Sparks  fly  out  from  them  as  from  the  chimney  of  a 
forge.  Men  there  are  who  go  driving  through  life  under  the  stimulus 
of  intense  wicked  feelings,  as  trains  drive  through  the  night,  sending 
out  a  stream  of  sparks  behind  them  which,  lighting  upon  any  inflam- 
mable thing  along  the  road,  leave  a  conflagration  in  the  rear.  The  train 
thunders  on ;  but  the  fire  stays  behind,  to  burn  whatever  is  within  its 
reach.  Thousands  and  thousands  of  men  there  are  who  never  intended 
to  destroy  anybody,  but  who  have  murdered  scores  and  hundreds  of 
men.  Thousands  and  thousands  there  are  who  never  meant  to  make 
anybody  unhappy,  but  who  have  waked  the  fires  of  hell  in  many  and 
many  a  heart.  There  are  thousands  and  thousands  of  men  who,  if  you 
should  question  them,  would  lift  up  their  hand  before  God,  and  say, 
"  I  have  never  smitten  my  brother ;  I  have  never  destroyed  a  soul ;" 
and  yet,  in  the  last  great  day  it  will  appear  that  these  men,  by  then-  un- 
conscious influence,  have  set  on  fire  trains  of  thought  and  imagination 
in  men  which  in  the  end  utterly  destroyed  them. 

Who,  having  the  small-pox,  or  the  plague,  and  making  a  journey 
withal,  having  gone,  with  the  pest  upon  him,  through  car  after  car, 
through  village  after  village,  and  along  the  whole  line  of  the  road,  can, 
at  the  end  of  the  route,  sit  down  and  count  up  what  he  has  done? 
How  does  he  know  what  germs  of  that  dreadful  disease  he  has  sown 
wherever  he  has  been  ?  How  does  he  know  how  those  germs  will  fes- 
ter here  and  there?  And  how  does  he  know  what  widening  circles  of 
contagion,  having  their  origin  with  him,  will  sweep  through  the  coun- 
try, carrying  death  and  destruction  every  whither? 

And  where  a  man's  heart  is  set  on  fire  of  hell,  and  he  has  spread 
his  baleful  influence  unconsciously  among  the  mercurial,  the  imagina- 
tive, the  over-sensitive,  and  the  receptive  natures  that  are  around  about 
him,  who  can  measure  how  much  mischief  he  has  done? 

Born  with  divine  intelligence,  born  with  moral  sentiments  that  ally- 
them  to  God,  born  with  instincts  that  should  have  led  them  upward, 
how  many  men  have  gone  through  life,  distributing  only  those  influ- 
ences that  animalize  life,  lower  the  tone  of  conscience,  take  away  sensi- 
bility, destroy  faith  in  goodness,  and,  finding  men  around  about  them 
all  ready,  like  the  open  furrow,  for  seeds  of  immortality,  sow  therein 
the  seeds  of  utter  destruction !  How  many  men  there  are  that,  with- 
out attempting  it  purposely,  have  slain  many  souls  with  dishonesty ! 
How  many  there  are  that  never  conjured  with  men's  truth,  and  yet 
left  them  liars  I      How  many  there  ai-e  that  never  set  out  to  make 


1 60  LAW  OF  EEREDITAR Y  mFL TJENCE.  < 

.  -  ■  4 

infidels  of  men,  and  yet  by  their  prosperity  in  awful  courees  have 
broken  the  faith  of  thousands  and  thousands  in  the  existence  of  a  prin- 
ciple of  justice  in  this  world,  or  in  the  belief  that  there  is  a  divine  moral 
igovernment  which  discriminates  between  right  and  wrong ! 

It  is  not  needful  that  a  man  should  set  out  to  do  wrong.  K  you 
are  bad,  you  cannot  help  doing  wrong.  And  if  you  are  good,  you 
cannot  help  spreading  goodness.  A  man  will  distribute  that  which  ia 
the  inherent  quality  of  his  character.  He  that  is  clothed  with  virtue, 
or  filled  with  the  inspirations  of  a  true  piety — let  him  stand  where  he 
may,  and  he  shines,  and  scatters  around,  him  the  light  of  God.  And 
he  that  is  filled  with  wickedness — let  him  go  where  he  may,  and  be- 
hind him,  however  many  precautions  he  may  take,  that  wickedness 
will  spread.  It  is  the  inherent  necessity  of  wickedness  to  breed  wick- 
edness and  distribute  it. 

A  man  is  responsible,  not  only  for  what  he  does  on  purpose,  but 
for  what  he  unconsciously  does.  And  the  load  of  responsibility  grows 
as  you  take  in  these  widening  circles.  More  than  this,  the  greater  the 
nature,  and  the  more  ample  the  endowment,  the  more  influence  does  a 
man  exert  both  for  good  and  for  evil — reversing,  precisely,  the  vagrant 
and  corrupt  impression  of  men,  that  a  great  nature  is  to  have  great 
liberty.  j 

The  moral  tone  of  our  literature  in  this  respect  is  exceedingly  bad-  ' 
There  is  almost  a  maxim  that  genius  has  a  right  to  be  lawless  as  to 
its  method  of  doing  right  things.  But  genius  has  no  right  to  be  law- 
less as  to  whether  the  things  that  it  does  shall  be  right  or  wrong.  It 
may  change  language  if  it  please  ;  it  may  fashion  art  as  it  chooses ;  but  as 
between  vu-tue  and  vice,  as  between  self-indulgence  and  temperance,  as 
between  purity  and  sensuality,  piety  and  bestiality,  genius  has  no  rights.  , 
Every  man  is  responsible  for  duty ;  and  duty,  and  responsibility  for  it,  I 
augment  in  the  proportion  of  being.  If  a  man  has  but  one  talent,  but 
one  talent  is  required  of  him ;  but  if  he  has  ten  talents,  then  ten  talents 
:are  required  of  him.  And  so,  if  a  man  have  wit  and  genius  and  knowl- 
edge, instead  of  having  a  right  to  be  lewd  and  intemperate  and  full  of 
all  license  of  tongue,  he,  above  all  others,  is  bound  to  be  strict,  and 
sweet,  and  true,  and  pure.  The  greatest  offenders  that  have  ever  lived 
on  the  face  of  the  earth,  have  not  been  cruel  robbers,  vulgar  thieves, 
or  men  wallowing  in  bestiality.  The  children  of  light,  the  fallen  stars 
of  genius — these  are  the  men  on  whom  God  will  lay  the  line,  and 
whom  he  will  measure  with  terrible  severity. 

It  is  not  a  small  thing  for  a  man  to  be  organized  and  sent  into  this 
world  a  power-breeder.  When  a  man  has  great  fertility  of  thought 
and  great  play  of  imagination,  it  is  not  for  him,  like  Swinburne,  to  set 
on  fire  all  the  low  and  base  passions  of  human  natm-e,  and  leave  on 


LAW  OF  EEREDITART  INFL TJENCE.  161 

record  a  literature  that  Venus  would  blush  to  read.  It  is  not  a  small 
thing  for  a  man  endowed  with  the  gift  of  song  to  clothe  the  appe- 
tites in  glowing  stanzas  that  make  drunkenness  almost  celestial  and  di- 
vine. It  is  abominable  that  persons  on  Avhom  God  has  showered  the 
richest  blessings  of  nature,  should  wreathe  the  beast  that  is  in  men 
with  flowers  and  with  laurels,  and  so  win  those  who  are  already  over- 
addicted  to  things  low  and  sensuous  by  still  more  jiotent  fascinations 
and  charms  and  immoralities.  Until  within  a  comparatively  recent 
period  the  sons  of  genius  have  wrought  for  Satan,  and  not  for  God. 

But  one  stej)  furlher.  Our  influence  is  not  merely  voluntary,  or  in- 
voluntary and  unconscious,  but  it  becomes  complex,  because  it  is  com- 
pounded with  the  lives  and  the  added  influence  of  others.  We  are 
social.  "We  come  into  relations  with  men.  Our  freedom  touches 
theii-s.  We  inspire  them.  But  we  do  not  change  their  nature.  We, 
as  it  were,  sow  germs  in  their  soil.  These  germs  go  on  and  become 
forces  in  their  hands.  So  that  that  which  we  do  to  single  ones,  they 
propagate.  We  lose  sight  of  the  fulness  and  the  scope  of  the  things 
that  we  do,  and  they  go  on  in  widening  circles  through  society.  Long 
have  we  forgotten,  if  we  ever  knew  them,  things  that  we  set  in  mo- 
tion, the  influence  of  which  was  good  or  bad,  but  the  outwork  of 
which  we  ^all  yet  know. 

When,  under  a  divine  inspiration  second  only  to  that  of  the  sweet 
singer  of  Israel,  Isaac  Watts  wrote  his  hymns,  do  you  suppose  he 
formed  the  remotest  estimate  of  how  those  hymns,  setting  like  an  or- 
ganist at  the  keys  of  the  human  soul,  would  go  on  playing  the  divin- 
ist  melodies  out  of  holy  hearts  thi-ough  thousands  and  thousands  of 
years?  When  the  rapt  and  celestial  Charles  Wesley  wrote  those 
hymns  of  inspiration  of  his,  and  when  the  melancholy  Cowper  wrote 
his  sweet  hymns,  do  you  suppose  they  dreamed  how  those  soldiers  of 
liglit,  armed  in  full  panoply,  would  go  marching  on,  slaying  doubt 
and  unbelief,  and  making  battle  for  Christ  to  the  end  of  time  ?  And 
when  those  masters  of  iniquity,  the  poets  that  have  sung  for  Belial's 
lewd  pleasure,  wrote  the  vile  things  that,  in  euphony,  and  with  all  the 
grace  and  movement  of  music,  go  on  chanting  their  bad  errands  and 
inspirations,  do  you  suppose  they  dreamed  of  the  causes  they  were  set^ 
ting  in  operation  ? 

Books  preserve  the  good  and  the  bad.  The  thoughts  which  men 
embalm  in  literature  live  on  long  and  long  after  their  bones  have 
crumbled  back  to  dust  again.  And  who  can  measure  the  power  and 
the  might  of  the  good  that  a  man  can  do?  Or,  who  can  measure  the 
power  and  the  might  of  the  bad  that  a  man  can  do?  I  would  rather 
slay  with  my  red  hand,  in  rage,  a  thousand  men,  and  nnudcr  tliem,  ex- 
piating my  crime  (or  rather,  receiving  an  honorable  acquittal  at  the 


162  ZAW  OF  HEBEDITAR  Y  INFL  TIENCE. 

hands  of  the  courts,  and  be  praised  by  the  whole  community  for  being 
a  murderer !)  than  to  pollute  any  of  the  great  sentiments  of  humanity 
with  a  work  of  genius  so  beauteous  that  it  could  not  die,  but  would 
go  on  corrupting  and  corrupting  generations  of  men,  and  so  be  the 
murderer  of  men's  consciences  and  spu-itual  natures. 

And  yet,  how  little  is  this  accounted  of !  How  are  men  still  put- 
ting laureb  on  satanic  principles !  How  still  are  men  looked  up  to 
and  their  influence  descanted  on,  whose  whole  power  is  to  wake  up 
the  devil  that  is  in  men !  How  are  tbese  men  that  walk  in  places  of 
honor  and  places  of  trust  still  unscorned  and  unslain  !  How  do  men 
whose  whole  work  in  society  is  to  sour  life,  to  wake  up  malignant  pas- 
sions, to  stab  men  with  jealousies,  to  perpetuate  feuds,  to  create  new 
quarrels,  and  to  drag  out  whatever  there  is  verminous  and  mischievous 
and  belluine  in  human  nature,  still  retain  enough  respectability  to  give 
currency  to  the  evil  that  they  do — doing  it  deftly,  and  seeking,  by  skill, 
and  literature,  and  science,  and  genius  itself,  to  make  the  devil  deified ! 

Can  any  man  be  more  a  culprit,  can  any  man  be  more  surely  under 
the  impending  wi'ath  of  God,  that  shall  by-and-by  fill  heavily  and  rest 
forever,  than  such  an  one?  Oh!  how  miserable  will  be  the  best  estate 
of  such  men,  though  then-  names  b3  bruited  about,  and  though  they 
walk  in  places  of  power ! 

But  men's  influence  is  not  limited  to  their  voluntary  action,  nor  to  the 
complex  social  relations  which  they  sustain,  and  by  which  their  influ- 
ence is  propagated  indirectly.     In  some  respects  men  hold  in   their 
hands  the  history  of  the  future.     The  very  solemn  declaration  of  our 
text — "  Visiting  the  iniquities  of  the  fathers  upon  the  childi-en,  and 
upon  the  children's  childi-en,  unto  the  third  and  to  the  fourth  genera- 
tion " — this  is  the  mystery  of  ages.     If  it  were  but  on  the  one  side ; 
if  men,  having  the  power  of  benificeoce,  had  the  power  to  perpetuate 
it,  we  should  admire  that ;  but  if  it  is  a  fact  that  men  have  the  power! 
of  transmitting  corruption,  and  so  of  influencing  after  times,  who  can^ 
fail  to  marvel  at  that?     If  that  is  a  law,  men  may  well  stand  appalled, 
in  the  presence  of  such  results  as  must  fall  out  under  it.     And  it  is  a  I 
law ;  it  is  a  fact. 

Men  are  empowered  to  transmit  bodily  ailments  on  the  one  hand  ;l 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  they  are  empowei'ed  to  transmit  bodily  strength,! 
symmetry  and  power.  I  do  not  believe  in  the  conversion  of  the  world 
simply  by  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel — that  is  to  say,  by  the  mere  in:^ 
fluence  of  moral  truth.  "We  must  learn  this  great  hereditary  law ;  and! 
we  must  include  in  our  purposes  of  benevolonce  the  wise  selection,  the! 
perpetuity  and  the  improvement  of  the  race,  by  the  observance  of  this! 
great  law  of  hereditary  transmission.  As  long  as  men  either  kno\^| 
nothlag  or  care  nothing  about  this  law ;  as  long  as  they  go  on  tra 


LA  W  OF  HEREDITARY  INFL  UENCE.  163 

mitting,  constantly,  and  haphazard,  the  traits,  good  or  bad,  that  they 
have  in  them — so  long  it  will  requh-e  all  the  power  of  the  preached 
Gospel  to  make  up  for  the  iiTegularities  that  fall  out  under  the  ignor- 
ance or  neglect  of  natural  law.  We  are  perpetually  bringing  moral 
law  to  bear  to  correct  evils  that  result  from  violations  of  natural 
law.  And  it  is  a  solemn  thing,  that  a  man  crippled  by  a  life-long 
disease,  of  liver,  or  stomach,  or  brain,  is  left  free  to  transmit  to  his 
children — four,  six,  eight  of  them — ^the  same  hereditaiy  tendencies; 
and  that  they  in  their  turn,  spreading  and  multiplying,  are  left  free  to 
transmit  those  tendencies  to  their  children ;  and  that  they  again  are 
left  free  to  transmit  them  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation,  until  some 
new  strain  of  blood  comes  in  to  coiTect  the  old  and  corrupt  tendencies. 
What  a  branching  misery  is  within  the  reach  of  every  man !  And 
how  does  the  physician,  how  does  the  physiologist,  studying  life  as  it 
is,  see  that  this  great  law  is  pei-petually  developing  itself,  and  shed- 
ding its  fruits  ;  and  that  men  have  the  power,  not  simply  of  exerting 
influence  by  their  mentality,  but  of  transmiting  causes,  good  or  evil, 
by  this  hereditary  law. 

Men  transmit  not  simply  their  constitutional  peculiarities,  but  their 
acquu-ed  qualities.  It  is  so  in  the  animal  kingdom,  and  still  more 
forcefully  so  in  the  human  race.  Animals  that  have  been  instructed 
and  made  intelligent  by  drill,  will  have  a  posterity  that  will  take  on 
instruction  much  more  facilely  than  they  did.  This  tendency  will  not 
increase  beyond  certain  limits,  and  these  limits  are  comparatively  nar- 
row ;  but  it  is  a  tendency  that  is  observed.  We  certainly  see  it  in 
society. 

Savage  natures  cannot  take  on  civilization,  until,  by  a  process  of 
repetition,  the  hereditary  law  has  had  time  to  work  out.  One  genera- 
tion moderately  civilized,  leaves  another  one  that  takes  on  civilization 
faster ;  and  that  one  leaves  another  that  takes  on  civilization  still 
faster ;  and  so  on,  until  a  generation  is  reached  that  is  thorough-bred, 
and  ficile  to  take  on  education. 

The  children  of  educated  parents  are,  generally  speaking,  easily 
educated.  The  cliildren  of  dull  and  uneducated  parents  are  not  facile 
of  education.  They  are  slow  to  learn,  and  slow  to  retain  or  use  what 
they  leai'u. 

Not  only  is  this  so  in  respect  to  intelligence,  but  it  is  so  with  regard 
to  goodness.  There  seem  to  be  exceptional  laws  ;  but  I  think  they  are 
scarcely  to  be  explained.  Men  think  that  the  children  of  the  good  are 
seldom  as  good  as  their  parents,  and  that  the  children  of  the  great  are 
seldom  as  great.  That  depends  upon  their  parents  again.  Any  fticulty 
in  the  parent  that  is  used,  tends  to  reproduce  itself  in  the  posterity,  if 
it  be  a  passion  ;  or  tends  to  exhaust  itself,if  it  be  a  sentiment,  and  does 
not  reappeai'  in  the  posterity. 


164  ZAW  OF  HEBEDITAB  T  INFL  UENCE. 

So  that  excessively  nervous  conscientious  persons  are  veiy  lilcely  to 
have  children  that  are  without  conscience.  They  use  up  all  the  con- 
science they  have  in  themselves,  they  burn  it  out,  so  that  there  is  none 
to  transmit.  It  is  the  lower  animal  nature  that  seems  to  have  a  super- 
fluity of  power  by  which  passions,  set  on  fire,  can  transmit  themselves. 
But  the  higher  nature^  exiguous,  as  it  were,  lacking  stimulus  and 
power,  easily  becomes  exhausted,  and  is  not  easily  transmissible. 

And  so  it  is  with  religious  or  spiritual-miuded  persons.  If  they 
become  excessively  spuitual-minded,  or  if  they  are  over-educated  reli- 
giously, then  the  moral  side  of  then*  nature  is  exhausted,  and  they  have 
no  capacity  to  transmit  the  higher  qualities,  and  then-  childi'en  come  ©ut 
with  a  dent  where  they  had  a  prominence. 

But  the  great  law  stands,  nevertheless,  that  persons  living  with  a 
wise  regard  to  the  law  that  touches  every  part  of  then*  nature — living 
vutuously  and  Christianly — tend  to  transmit  vhtuous  inclinations,  and 
tend  to  transmit  a  susceptibility  that  with  more  ease  becomes  truly 
Christian  in  theii-  posterity.  The  children  of  intelligent  and  Christian 
parents  are  more  likely  to  become  Christians  than  the  children  of  igno- 
rant and  wicked  parents. 

Men  transmit,  likewise,  their  acquii-ed  tendencies  of  thought.  Ly- 
ing men  tend  to  have  lying  children.  Dishonest  men  tend  to  have 
dishonest  childi-en.  Thieves  tend  to  breed  thieves ;  murderers,  mur- 
derers ;  drunkards,  drunkards ;  insane  men,  insanity.  These  great 
facts  are  indisputable.  They  may  not  often  be  heard  in  the  sanctuary  ji 
though  it  would  be  wiser  if  they  were  heard  there  oftener. 

Not  to  follow  the  line  of  illustration  further,  I  remark,  first,  that! 
the  power  of  a  good  life,  both  directly  and  induectly  or  remotely,  is,] 
luckily,  incalculable.  One  of  the  most  potential  motives  of  true  holi-^ 
ness  is  the  unconscious  benefit  which  it  distributes  on  every  side — the! 
far-reaching  transmission  of  an  eminent  moral  nature — the  blessing! 
that  comes  down,  according  to  the  word  of  God,  from  the  fathers\ 
upon  the  children,  to  the  third  and  the  fourth  generation. 

There  have  been  notable  names  in  our  own  American  histoiy  of  I 
men  of  hohness,  and  men  of  prayer,  who  died  generations  back,  and] 
whose  posterity  are  carrying  down  with  them  to  this  day  precisely  the] 
same  traits  that  they  possessed.  From  men  and  households  that  land-j 
ed  in  the  earliest  days  in  the  colonies,  there  has  come  down  an  unbro-j 
ken  succession  of  just  such  dispositions  and  tendencies.  And  every! 
man  that  is  laying  the  foundations  of  ti'ue  manhood  in  himself ;  everyj 
man  that  is  building  himself  uj)  sphitually  and  Christianly — every  suchj 
man,  besides  what  he  reaps  himself,  besides  the  bounty  and  benefit 
which  his  own  household  receives,  besides  the  remote  and  du-ect  influx 
ences  which  he  will  distribute  all  the  way  down  through  life,  has  the^ 


LAW  OF  HEREDITARY  INFLUENCE.  1G5 

promise  and  moral  certainty  of  transmitting  those  same  qualities  which 
are  in  him,  to  unborn  generations,  so  that  when  he  is  dead  his  influence 
will  still  walk  and  speak  and  transmit  itself  with  gro^nng  power  and 
in  multiplying  circles,  to  remote  periods — to  the  third  and  the  fourth 
generation. 

Therefore,  the  sweetness  and  the  blessedness  which  there  is  in  the 
Christian  life  is  not  measurable  by  any  of  the  ordinary  standards.  It 
is  susceptible  of  an  illustration  far  transcending  any  that  has  ever  been 
given  of  it. 

The  malignity  of  sin  is  a  terrible  malignity,  as  it  is  revealed  by  this 
gi'eat  law  of  the  transmission  of  influence  to  posterity,  either  directly 
and  voluntarily,  or  indirectly  and  unconsciously.  There  are  multitudes 
of  men  that  are  careless  of  themselves.  They  an'e  said  to  be  their  own 
worst  enemies.  They  are  men  that  are  free  and  easy ;  that  squander 
their  money ;  that  pervert  then-  disposition ;  that  con-upt  the  sources 
of  taste  and  sensibility ;  that  degrade  their  persons ;  that  utterly  ignore 
holiness  of  body ;  and  that  live  all  the  way  through  life  kind,  it  may 
be,  but  kind  because  they  happen  to  be  good-natured.  And  because 
they  are  good-natured  and  genial,  people  say  of  them,  "They  are 
clever  fellows ;  they  ai'e  kind  men ;  they  do  no  harm ;  at  any  rate  they 
are  theii-  own  worst  enemies." 

Now,  a  man  that  is  spending  his  whole  life  to  destroy  himself,  can- 
not stop  with  himself  No  man  ever  destroyed  himself  alone,  no  man 
ever  perverted  the  sources  of  his  life  in  this  way  without  at  the  same 
time  influencing  more  than  he  knew  or  di'eamed  of.  And  the  better 
fellow  he  is,  the  more  likely  is  he  to  exert  an  influence. 

More  than  that,  it  is  not  himself  alone  that  is  destroyed.  The  babe 
in  the  cradle  is  cursed.  The  daughter  unborn  is  cursed.  The  heir  and 
sequent  childi-en  are  cursed.  And  he  scorns  reproof,  and  wiU  not  be 
persuaded  for  his  own  sake,  nor  believe  that  he  is  in  danger.  And  as 
one  stands  in  a  window  when  the  street  is  crowded,  and  sows  fire, 
casting  it  down  not  knowing  whom  it  may  smite,  or  between  whose 
raiment  and  skin  it  may  come,  blistering  and  burning ;  so  men  stand 
transmitting  influences  that  go  down  from  generation  to  generation 
corrupting  and  corrupting  Imman  life.  It  is  a  terrible  thing  for  a  man 
to  be  a  vicious  man,  and  the  father  of  vicious  men ;  to  be  a  drunkard, 
and  the  father  of  drunkards ;  to  be  a  culprit,  and  the  flither  of  culprits. 

It  is  difficult  to  speak  with  sufficient  delicacy  of  some  shades  of 
sin — the  sin  of  lewdness,  for  Instance ;  and  unless  one  be  courageous, 
he  can  scarcely  perform  this  duty.  Yet,  no  other  duty  is  more  neces- 
saiy.  The  raging  and  destroying  sin  of  such  great  cities  as  this ;  the> 
sin  that  lurks  and  cornipts  unseen,  and  whose  wide  devastation  is  so. 
much  shielded  by  a  false  delicacy,  or  by  circumstances  which  makQ.-| 


166  LAW  OF  EEREDITAB T  INFL UENCE. 

men  shrink  as  conscious  that  they  lack  skill  delicately  and  knowledge 
wisely  to  touch  the  most  immedicable  of  evils — this  ought  certainly  not 
to  be  omitted  from  a  category  of  transmissible  sins.  And  men  that 
sin  against  their  own  bodies  and  against  theu'  own  purity,  set  in  motion 
a  line  of  causes  which  go  on  working  down  through  generations.  For 
their  own  guilty,  selfish  transgression,  their  own  delusive  and  short- 
lived delmum  of  pleasure,  they  curse,  with  a  bane  and  a  blast  immeas- 
urable, generations  yet  to  come. 

It  is  the  statement  of  many  statisticians,  that  the  tendencies  to  dis- 
ease which  are  hereditarily  transmissible,  lower  the  tone  of  life  in  whole 
kingdoms  in  Europe.  Whole  armies  become  centres  of  transmitted 
influences  that  break  out  in  various  forms  of  disease,  weakness  and 
corruption.  The  constitution  is  lowered  in  tone ;  and  life,  in  whole 
generations,  in  certain  nations  and  societies,  is  corrupted.  And  all  this 
mischief  springs  from  that  one  source. 

Let  those  who  yet  are  safe,  but  who  feel  the  whirl  and  temptation 
on  the  perilous  edge,  turn  to  the  word  of  God,  and  read  those  terrific 
passages  which  occm-  in  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon.  Let  them,  as  they 
draw  near  to  the  house  of  death,  shudder.  In  the  chill,  and  in  the 
dark  shadow,  let  them  gain  wisdom  and  turn  back,  and  leam  that  in 
the  way  of  temperance,  and  in  the  way  of  chastity,  and  in  the  way  of 
absolute  vu-tue  of  thought  and  imagination,  there  is  not  only  plenary 
happiness  to  them,  but  increasing  influences  for  good,  and  sweet  and 
divine  blessings,  rolling  over  and  over  to  their  posterity. 

I  will  add  but  a  single  considei^ation  more ;  and  that  is  a  caution 
and  a  warning  to  all  those  who  are  consciously  bearing  in  themselves 
the  seeds  of  transmissable  disease.  I  think  there  is  no  crime  and  no 
misdeameanor,  to  those  that  are  instructed,  gi'eater  than  that  of  form- 
ing marriage  connections  under  such  circumstances.  There  are  men 
who  are  born  to  celibacy.  There  are  men  and  women  that  ought  to 
have  sense  of  duty  and  heroism  enough  to  say,  "  It  is  not  wise  for  me 
to  put  in  peril  posterity.  I  am  marked  of  God.  I  bear  in  myself 
transmissable  qualities  of  mischief  and  evil.  I  will  not  shed  them 
abroad.  I  will  stand  alone ;  and  with  me  shall  end  one  eeries  of  sor- 
rows." But  there  are  many  who,  for  want  of  instruction,  go  on  trans- 
mitting disease  to  future  generations.  And  we  see  persons  coming 
together  both  of  whom  are  marked  for  early  death,  scrofulous  and 
consumptive  ;  and  out  blossoms  the  bright  bud  of  promise  and  of  hope; 
and  ere  long  the  minister  is  summoned  to  sympathize  with  them  for 
one  babe  gone.  A  second  comes  and  goes.  The  house  is  full  of 
mourning.  The  third,  alas  !  does  not  go,  but  lives  on,  with  shattered 
constitution,  with  battered  powers,  and  comes  down  into  life  carrying 
pain,  pain,  pain,  and  suffering  in  increasing  waves,  we  know  not  how 
long  nor  how  far. 


i 


ZA  W  OF  HEREDITAR  Y  INFL  UENCE.  167 

It  ought  not  to  be  a  difficult  thing  for  any  Christianly  bred  man  or 
woman  to  say,  "  It  is  not  for  me  to  be  a  sower  of  mischief  in  the  fu- 
ture." There  is  many  and  many  a  man  that  should  say,  "By  the  help 
of  God  I  will  live  and  die  single." 

This  is  a  thing  which  ministers  ought  to  preach  about.  This  is  a 
thing  which  doctors  ought  to  give  their  attention  to.  A  doctor  ought 
not  to  follow  disease,  but  go  ahead  of  it,  as  for  as  may  be,  and  prevent 
it.  He  ought  to  teach  the  community  the  laws  of  health.  And  on  no 
point  is  there  more  need  of  knowledge  than  on  this. 

It  may  be  asked,  "If  we  believe  this  to  be  the  terrible  constitution 
of  things  under  which  we  are  brought  into  this  life,  how  can  we  help 
living  in  a  state  of  perpetual  anxiety  t  Must  not  a  man  watch  the 
glance  of  his  eye,  the  turn  of  his  hand,  his  every  step,  even  ?  Who 
can  but  ponder  and  brood  upon  the  mischiefs  which  he  may  be  uncon- 
sciously propagating  ?  If  besides  what  we  mean  to  do,  there  is  that 
other  wide  and  fruitful  influence  which  is  unconscious,  what  peace  and 
rest  can  there  be  to  a  man  V 

If  you  have  built  your  character  on  truth,  justice,  purity  and  piety, 
you  need  not  be  afraid.  Just  give  yourself  liberty.  Do  not  pondef 
nor  turn  back.  Do  not  fritter  away  your  life  by  these  unjjrofitable  in- 
troversions and  analytical  processes  of  mind  by  which  you  attempt  to 
detect  the  nature  of  your  thoughts  and  feelings.  Be  sure  of  one 
thing — that  a  round,  robust,  moral  manhood  is  safe.  Trust  it.  Give 
it  power.  Let  it  run.  No  man  that  is  doing  wickedly  ought  to  be 
other  than  anxious ;  but  any  man  that  is  conscious  that  he  has  a  judg- 
ment that  is  directed  toward  virtue,  and  piety,  and  God,  and  the  wel- 
fare of  his  fellow  men,  need  not  be  Avatching  himself.  The  only  man 
that  is  free,  the  only  man  that  may  do  what  he  wants  to,  is  the  man 
who  wants  to  do  only  what  is  good.  The  only  man  that  is  free  from 
anxieties  and  forebodings,  is  the  man  who  has  the  testimony  of  God  in 
his  soul  that  he  is  virtuous.  He  stands  strong.  He  is  full  of  joy  now, 
and  is  full  of  anticipations  of  joy  in  days  to  come,  and  of  certainties  of 
joy  when  the  sun  and  moon  shall  have  passed  away. 

Blessed  are  they  that  have  trusted  in  the  Lord.  They  shall  stand 
firmer  than  the  mountains.  Far  above  the  disturbing  influences  that 
annoy  the  feeble,  the  weak,  the  guilty,  and  the  fear-driven,  they  bathe 
their  head  in  the  upper  sky.  On  them  rests  earliest,  and  latest,  and 
longest,  the  benignest  rays  of  the  sun.  Afar  ofi"  they  are  seen  in  all 
colors  and  all  forms  of  beauty.  They  shall  be  as  Mount  Zion,  which 
God  loveth. 

Let  these  words  sink  deep  into  your  hearts — especially  into  the 
liearts  of  those  that  are  beginning  life.  Make  right  choices.  Choose 
for  God.     Choose  for  virtue.     Choose  for  kindness,  for  purity,  and  for 


168  LAW  OF  EEREDITABT  INFLXmNCE. 

truth.  Live  for  the  highest  things..  Put  your  ambition  not  lower 
than  the  sun,  but  far  above  it.  Set  your  affections  on  things  above, 
at  the  right  hand  of  God,  where  Christ  sitteth.  So  live,  and  you  shall 
rise  to  iuimorlality.  And  then  you  shall  behold  how,  tb'ough  count- 
less ages,  the  benefit  and  the  blessing  of  youi-  life  still  strtams  on,  and 
how,  being  dead,  you  yet  speak. 


rUW  OF  UEREBITARY  INFLUENCE.  169 

PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

"We  draw  near  to  thee,  this  evening,  our  Father,  rejoicing  in  thy  mercy. 
Thou  hast  made  our  hearts  glad  all  the  day  long.  We  have  dwelt  in  thy 
presence  all  the  daylong.  Thy  smile  has  rested  upon  us.  Not  on  the  earth 
art  thou  now  shining  more  graciously,  bringing  forth  bud  and  flower,  thaa 
upon  our  hearts.  We  rejoice  that  we  are  the  children  of  God,  and  are  be- 
loved. We  rejoice,  though  our  sins  are  many  and  aggravated,  that  thou 
hast  forgiven  them,  and  wilt  forgive.  Thou  art  full  of  mercy.  Thou  art 
perpetual  in  thy  tenderness.  None  can  throw  themselves  away  from  thee 
except  their  hearts  are  set  to  do  iniquity.  We  rejoice,  O  Lord  our  God,  for 
all  the  hope  which  we  have  that  when  this  short  life  is  passed  we  shall  reach 
a  better  land  where  temptations  cease;  where  all  influences  descending  from 
thee,  unbroken  we  shall  stand  as  the  children  of  the  Lord,  in  full  power  of 
holiness,  and  in  all  graciousness  and  beauty.  We  aspire  to  that  land.  From 
amidst  tears,  and  cares,  and  sorrows,  and  sighing,  we  look  to  that  land  of 
rest  where  no  storm  blows,  where  no  bolts  descend,  where  are  no  winter 
blasts,  and  where  no  summer  languisheth,  but  where  there  is  rest  for  the 
weary,  and  perfectness  to  those  that  have  been  striving,  where  all  are  at 
home,  and  thou  art  the  Father,  and  we  are  gathered  as  thy  children,  rejoic- 
ing in  thee  supremely,  and  in  the  reflected  love  of  thy  soul  taught  to  love 
one  another. 

Help  us,  O  Lord  our  God,  while  we  make  toward  that  blessed  port  across 
the  stormy  sea.  Though  delayed,  baflied,  driven  out  of  our  course,  amidst 
perils  be  thou  still  our  pilot.  Guide  us  more  safely,  and  bring  us  safely, 
every  one  of  us,  into  that  blessed  harbor  of  God.  Help  us  to  be  jealous  of 
every  evil  in  ourselves ;  to  fear  and  to  dread  sin ;  to  cast  it  out,  and  to  puri- 
fy ourselves  wholly  from  it.  And  grant  that  we  may  know  what  is  sinful. 
Thou  Holy  Spirit  by  which  the  heart  shall  be  searched,  search  thou  us.  O 
God !  try  us,  and  see  if  there  be  any  evil  way  in  us.  May  we  not  be  con- 
tent with  our  own  thought  from  day-to-day.  May  we  open  our  souls  to  th* 
secret  nature  of  our  God. 

And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  make  us  more  and  more  sensitive  to  things 
that  are  wrong.  Give  more  and  more  sensibility  to  our  conscience — the  dis- 
cerning power  in  spiritual  things.  Grant  that  we  may  so  live  that  by  our 
experiences,  by  our  life,  by  our  aspiration,  by  our  labor  and  sacrifice,  one  for 
another,  we  may  interpret  more  of  the  divine  nature.  And  so,  learning 
more  of  thee,  may  we  come  back  to  human  life  with  better  knowledge  of 
it,  and  thus  gain  both  ways.  And  so  we  beseech  of  thee  that  we  may  go 
from  glory  to  glory. 

Bless,  we  beseech  of  thee,  all  the  members  of  this  congregation  now  as- 
sembled in  thy  divine  presence.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  cheer  those  that 
are  in  despondency,  and  give  light  to  those  that  are  in  darkness  and  per- 
plexity, and  ccmfirmation  to  all  those  that  waver.  Grant  that  those  that  are 
heavy-hearted  may  be  comforted  by  the  divine  Consoler.  Bless  those  that 
are  bereaved,  and  sanctify  their  sorrows.  Strengthen  all  that  are  burdened 
with  care  and  trouble.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  that  this  whole 
people  may  to-night  experience  in  thy  presence  such  a  blessing  as  shall  make 
them  feel  their  nearness  to  thee.  And  give  them  faith  of  thy  government 
and  of  thy  power  upon  men  on  earth. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord,  our  God!  that  thou  wilt  remember  any  that 
are  absent  from  us — all  those  whose  hearts  turn  hitherward.  And  may  thy 
truth  and  thy  Spirit  which  makes  us  rich  be  their  portion  forever. 

And  now  we  commit  ourselves  to  thy  fatherly  guidance.  We  need  but 
thee.  All  the  blessings  of  life  are  doubled  and  grow  more  fruitful  in  thy 
Bmile.  ]\Iake  our  aflections  sweeter  by  loving  us.  Teach  us  divine  16ve. 
Make  our  mercies  and  our  sorrows  more  beneficent.  And  guide  us  safely 
through  unto  the  last.     And  then,  in  dying  to  this  world,  may  we  begui 


170  LAW  OF  UEREDITAR T  INFL UENCE. 

to  live  to  the  other,  and  beholding  the?,  and  the  glory  of  the  moral  state, 
may  we  rise  to  blessodness,  and  through  infinite  gradations,  forever  and  for- 
ever, ascend  in  happiness. 

And  to  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Spirit,  shall  be  praises  everlasting. 
Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 


Our  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  add  thy  blessing  to  the 
words  spoken.  May  we  understand  the  mystery  of  living.  May  we  under- 
stand the  mystery  of  thy  providence  in  life.  May  we  take  from  thy  word 
the  solution  of  many  of  those  obscure  and  troublous  questions  which  fall 
upon  our  thoughts.  May  we  know  that  thou  hast  built  us  up  like  thyself. 
We  are  surrounded  by  vital  influences  on  every  side.  Nor  can  we  repress 
them.  May  we  only  seek  so  to  purify  our  hearts,  so  to  fill  ourselves  with 
gracious  intents,  so  to  come  into  sympathy  with  thy  divine  and  spiritual 
nature,  that  all  things  which  proceed  from  us  shall  be  as  of  God. 

Bless  us,  we  pray  thee,  now,  at  the  close  of  this  Sabbath  day.  "We  thank 
thee  for  the  day — for  its  morning,  its  noon,  and  its  evening.  Give  us  strength 
out  of  the  bosom  of  this  Sabbath  to  go  down  into  the  great  week  before  us, 
to  stand,  to  labor,  and  to  sufi'er.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  we  may  be  men 
enduring  hardship  as  good  soldiers.  And  bring  us  finally,  above  all  further 
suflFering,  beyond  care  and  trouble,  into  thy  heavenly  kingdom,  through 
riches  of  grace  in  Christ  Jesus.    Amen. 


THE  TRUE  RELIGIOI. 


"  Master,  which  Is  the  great  commandmen*:  in  the  law  ?  Jesus  said  nnto 
him,  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy 
eoul,  and  with  all  thj  mind.  This  is  the  first  cud  great  commandment, 
^Lnd  the  second  is  like  unto  it.  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.  On 
these  two  commandments  hang  all  the  law  »ud  the  prophets."—  Matt.  xxii. 
36^0. 


Our  Master  was  in  Jerusalem,  and  was  sitting  in  the  temple,  as 
was  bis  custom,  receiving  questions  and  giving  answers;  and  al- 
most all  the  points  of  interest  that  at  that  time  were  agitating  the 
^inds  of  men,  were  brought  up  in  tm-n  before  him.  13y-and-by  a 
(Scribe — or,  as  he  is  called  in  this  jDassage,  a  lawyer^  which  was  the 
same  thing — asked  him  a  question.  The  Jewish  law  was  the  Old  Tes- 
tament— the  five  books  of  Moses  and  the  prophets,  particularly.  The 
lawyers,  therefore,  were  the  commentators  as  well  as  the  interpreters 
of  the  Old  Testament.  They  were  accustomed  to  look  a  little  fui-ther 
along  than  the  simple  ingenuities  which  other  men  indulged  in.  The 
question  which  was  asked  by  this  scribe,  or  lawyer,  might  be  called 
a  constitutional  question.     He  said, 

"  Master,  which  is  the  greatest  commandment  in  the  law  ?" 

He  went  to  &«  »«tow  of  the  matter.  He  asked  for  the  starting- 
point,  the  founditticBi  idea,  of  the  law  of  religion.  And  this  is  the 
answer : 

"  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy 
heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind.  This  is  the  first  and 
great  commandment.  And  the  second  is  like  unto  it,  Thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbor  as  thyself.  On  these  two  commandments  hang  all  the  law  and  the 
prophets." 

As  a  clear,  explicit,  and  unrevoked  statement  by  our  Lord,  of 
what  constitutes  true  piety,  this  takes  precedence  of  all  others.  It 
never  was  modified.  It  was  repeated  in  various  forms.  The  apostles 
understood  it  as  we  understand  it.  "  Love,"  says  the  chief  apostle, 
"is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law."  John's  epistles  are  nothing  but  the  ap 
plication  of  this  same  thought  to  the  interior  consciousness  of  men  ik 
distinction  from  their  exterior  conduct.  That  immortal  chant,  the  thir- 
teenth cha])ter  of  Corinthians,  is  but  an  unfolding  of  the  same  idea — 
the  domiuancy  of  love  to  God  and  man. 

Sunday  MORNDja,  May  15,  1870.  Lkb80N:  Bom.  XIL  Htmn8  (Pljrmouth  Collection): 
If  o«.  269,  513,  12U2. 


172  TEE  TRUE  BELIQIOK 

And  when  Paul,  in  his  old  age,  was  about  to  lay  down  his  ministry, 
and  wrote  to  Timothy,  whom  he  called  his  son,  he  gave  him  precisely 
the  same  views  of  the  question. 

"Now,  the  end  of  the  commandment  [the  scope  and  purpose  of  it]  is, 
charity  out  of  a  pure  heart,  and  of  a  good  conscience,  and  of  faith 
unfeigned." 

And  all  the  specific  directions — what  may  be  called  the  ethical  in-, 
struction  of  the  New  Testament — comport  with  this  ruling  conception 
of  true  piety.  There  is  not  a  single  instance  in  which  duty  is  so  in- 
structed that  it  would  traverse  this  conception  of  beneficence. 

1.  We  have,  then,  an  explicit  revelation  of  the  true  nature  of  re- 
ligion, about  which  the  whole  woj'ld  has  been  in  so  much  dispute. 
The  essence  of  religion  is  love  to  God  and  love  to  tnan.  It  is  toward 
God  a  whole  and  continuous  sympathy  and  love.  It  is  toward  man  a 
uniform  and  dominating  disposition  of  benevolence.  It  is  love,  not  as  a 
passion,  but  as  a  sentiment.  Toward  God,  the  admiring,  confiding, 
trusting,  reverential  love  that  childi-en  have  for  theu*  parents,  is  the 
love  that  is  commanded.  There  is  in  it  just  that  touch  of  fear  which 
produces  reverence  ;  which  makes  modesty  in  the  child ;  which  keeps 
him  from  forwardness  and  impertinent  familiarity — no  other  fear.  And 
we  have  no  need  to  stumble.  Every  true  household  is  God's  interpre- 
ter— not  in  respect  to  the  perfectness  of  the  disclosure  of  life,  but  in 
respect  to  the  kind  of  exercise  required  of  God  toward  him.  It  is  just 
the  kind  which  the  loving  child  exercises  toward  a  beneficent  parent. 
Toward  men,  it  is  benevolence ;  a  feeling  of  kindness ;  a  heart  that 
loves  happiness;  that  finds  itself  more  happy  in  making  others  happy 
than  in  anything  else  ;  that  sees  no  better  use  to  make  of  the  whole 
force  of  life  than  as  an  instrument  for  making  men  happier.  And  as 
goodness  and  happiness  are  correlatives,  men  are  made  happier  by  being 
made  better. 

You  will  observe  the  intenseness  of  the  repetitions  according  to  the 
Hebrew  method. 

"  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy 
soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength,  and  with  all  thy  mind,  and  thy  neighbor  as 
thyself." 

That  is  strong  enough.  This  love  is  to  comprehend  every  part  of 
the  mind,  and  all  the  time.  The  expression  love  is  equivalent  to  our 
idea  of  dominance.  It  does  not  mean  that  we  are  to  be  thinking  about 
God  all  the  time.  Nobody  thinks  of  any  one  thing  all  the  time,  nor 
can.  To  do  that  would  be  insanity.  Not  the  mother,  nor  the  lover, 
newest  and  least  expert,  does  it.  It  is  contrary  to  our  organization. 
For  the  mind  is  not  a  monochord.  It  is  a  complex  instrument,  and 
must  alternate  its  states  and  experiences. 

Nor  does  this  expression  teach  that  there  is  to  be  no  other  activity, 


TEE  Tli  UE  EE LI 01  OK  173 

no  other  procluct  of  the  mind — for  instance,  no  worship,  no  veneration, 
no  reason,  no  conscience,  no  indignation,  no  strife,  but  simply  this : 
that  the  whole  soul  in  free  play,  whatever  part  of  itself  it  exerts,  must 
be  active  in  the  spirit  of  benevolence — of  love  toward  God,  and  of  a 
true  well-wishing  toward  men. 

This  we  may  easily  understand  by  familiar  parallels.  We  say  of 
persons  who  are  cultivated,  that  their  whole  manhood  is  cultivated. 
We  do  not  mean  that  there  is  a  thing  called  cultivation  which  they 
have  in  exercise,  and  nothing  besides.  We  simply  mean  that  there  is 
a  given  mode  of  activity ;  that  the  reason  and  the  affections  act  in  a 
certain  fine  way ;  that  they  act  with  a  particular  quality  which  we  call 
cultivation.  When  we  speak  of  a  man  as  well-bred  and  refined,  we  do 
not  mean  that  his  taste  is  the  only  active  part  of  his  nature,  but  this : 
that  whatever  other  faculties  are  acting,  they  all  take  on  the  quality  of 
taste,  so  that  they  are  of  the  nature  of  this  prcdominent  influence. 

Just  the  same  is  true  of  conscience.  A  man  is  said  to  be  a  con- 
scientious man  when  conscience  rules  him.  When  we  speak  of  a  man 
as  conscientious,  we  do  not  mean  that  conscience  is  the  only  feeling 
that  rises  up  and  acts,  but  that  it  so  distributes  itself  through  the  mind 
that  every  other  feeling  which  comes  in  acts  conscientiously.  And 
when  we  are  commanded  to  love  God  icith  all  our  heart,  and  soul, 
and  stre7igth,  and  mind,  and  our  neighbor  as  ourselves,  it  is  not 
meant  that  a  man  should  sit  down  and  love,  love,  love,  love,  with  a 
repetition  that  is  just  like  the  ticking  of  a  clock,  which  repeats 
the  same  tick  over,  and  over,  and  over,  and  over  again.  It  is  not 
meant  that  we  are  to  compress  all  the  parts  of  our  life  into  any  such 
unity,  or  any  such  singleness,  that  they  shall  all  be  included  in  one 
thing,  that  one  thing  being  love  to  God  and  love  to  man.  It  is  meant 
that  a  strong  predominant  love  to  God  and  man  shall  so  pervade  the 
soul,  that  there  cannot  be  in  all  the  action  of  the  mind  one  feeling  that 
will  go  contrary  to  that  spirit.  The  reason  must  be  a  reason  acting  in 
the  spirit  of  love  ;  the  conscience  must  be  a  conscience  acting  in  the 
atmosphere  of  love  ;  the  taste  must  be  a  taste  acting  in  the  atmosphere 
and  spirit  of  love — love  to  God  and  love  to  man.  The  appetites  and 
passions,  and  every  other  faculty  of  the  mind,  in  all  their  })Ower  or 
variety  or  versatility,  may  act ;  but  they  will  act  as  steeds  that  feel  the 
one  rein,  which  goes  back  to  the  hands  of  the  one  driver,  whose  name 
is  Love. 

So  that  there  is  to  be  a  spirit  of  unity — a  regent,  dominant  spirit 
which  gives  color,  influence  and  character  to  every  other  activity  of 
the  whole  soul ;  and  this  is  to  be  true  love  toward  God,  and  true  love 
toward  man — not  love  as  a  passion  of  elective  affinity,  but  love  as  an 
expression  of  happiness — wishing,  well-wishing,  benevolence. 


174  TEE  TRUE  RELIGION. 

Now,  our  Master  declares  that  the  typical  Christian  man  is  he 
whose  whole  activity,  reason,  will,  affections,  sentiments,  are  pervaded 
with  this  spirit  of  charity  ;  this  love  of  others ;  this  instinct  of  kind- 
ness i  this  benevolence ;  this  well-wishing.  This  it  is  to  be  Christ- 
like.    This  it  is  to  be  Christian.     This  it  is  to  be  pious,  or  religious. 

2.  We  have  here,  then,  the  physological  idea  of  the  Bible  in  regard 
to  the  perfect  man.  In  which  direction  does  perfection  tend  ?  What 
is  the  ideal  of  perfectness  in  man  ?  There  have  been  a  great  many 
ideals  on  this  subject.  The  Greek  ideal  was  beauty,  unfolding  around 
about  the  intellect.  In  other  words,  intellectual  activity,  combined 
with  taste,  constituted  the  Greek  conception  of  true  manhood.  There 
was  with  this,  of  course,  a  lower  inflection  of  enjoyment.  But  the 
ideal  of  man  to  the  Greeks  was  a  thinker,  and  an  elegant  thinker.  He 
that  had  intellectual  power  largest,  most  various,  finest,  and  most  fruit- 
ful, embodied,  to  then-  conception,  the  perfect  man.  The  Greeks  con- 
sidered themselves  as  cultivated ;  and  all  the  rest  of  the  world  were 
barbarians  to  their  thought.  The  Greek  divided  the  world  into  two 
classes — the  Greeks  and  the  barbarians.  Whoever  was  not  Gi'eek  was 
barbarian,  according  to  his  classification.  This  is  just  the  same  thing 
that  has  been  going  on  ever  since.  The  Englishman  and  the  non- 
Englishman  constitute  the  two  great  classes  in  London.  In  this  coun- 
try it  is  the  American  and  the  non-American.  And  it  is  so  all  the 
world  over.  Self  first ;  and  then  all  the  rest — the  unfortunate,  the 
secondary.  The  Greek  felt  that  he  was  the  lord  of  ci-eation,  easily — 
not  by  purity  ;  not  by  spiritual  insight ;  not  by  largeness  and  perfect- 
ness of  development,  all  around ;  but  simply  by  the  force  of  a  philo- 
sophical exercise  of  the  reason,  and  by  the  force  of  idealized  taste. 
And  that  strain  comes  down  to  our  day.  We  have  Greeks,  and  have 
had  from  the  time  of  Pericles  to  the  present  hour.  There  has  been  a 
line  of  philosophers  coming  down  through  Germany,  and  France,  and 
England  ;  and  now  in  our  day  there  are  philosophers  such  as  Buckle, 
who  do  not  admit  that  the  world  has  gi-own  from  moral  causes  at  all, 
but  affirm  that  it  has  made  all  its  progress  by  the  unfolding  force  of 
the  understanding  or  the  intellect. 

The  Roman  conception  of  man  was,  not  that  he  was  a  philosopher, 
but  that  he  was  a  warrior,  a  ruler.  Power,  therefore,  was  inherent — 
not  fineness  of  thought,  not  intellectual  elegance  and  comprehensive- 
ness, but  the  power  to  govern,  the  power  to  combine,  the  power  to 
overthrow  and  crush  resistance,  the  power  to  organize  law  and  main- 
tain obedient  order. 

In  modern  times,  outside  of  the  Christian  circle,  there  seems  to  be^ 
another  ideal.  He  is  the  great  man  who  has  the  qualities  of  a  states- 
man ;  who  has  the  capacity  to  organize  financial  and  political  forces  j 


THE  TRUE  RELIGION.  175 

who  can  manage ;  who  sits  high  in  the  seat  of  power ;  who  has  genius 
to  understand  and  control  men. 

But  Christ's  ideal  is  neither  philosophy,  nor  war,  nor  statecraft, 
but  love — love  to  God,  and  love  to  man.  When  that  spuit  predomi- 
nates in  the  soul,  you  have  struck  the  key-note ;  you  have  got  hold  of 
the  radical  principle  ;  you  have  touched  the  line  of  direction.  And  all 
unfolding,  all  growth,  that  is  true  and  perfect,  in  time,  is  to  take  that 
direction.  And  Avhen  the  perfect  man  shall  appear  on  the  earth — the 
coming  man  that  we  hear  so  much  about,  and  that  is  so  slow  a  traveler 
— it  will  be  found  that  he  is  a  man  who  has  peifectly  entered  into  this 
divine  conception  of  love,  reaching  upward  toward  all  things  high  and 
pure  and  noble,  and  reaching  outward  toward  all  sentient  beings.  And 
the  capacity  to  create  happiness  will  be  the  true  ideal  of  man. 

We  do  not  mean  that  there  will  be  nothing  else  but  this  simple 
sentiment  or  sentimentality  of  well-wishing,  but  that  this  is  to  be  the 
critical  test.  All  activities  must  be  found  to  be  under  the  influence  of 
this  one  particular  feeling.  All  things  liked  or  disliked  must  be  liked 
or  disliked  according  to  this  central  spirit.  This  must  be  the  one 
atmosphere  that  pervades,  overhangs,  surrounds,  interpenetrates  the 
whole  activity  of  the  thought,  of  the  imagination,  of  the  sentiments, 
of  the  affections  ;  so  that  they  are  all  of  them  moving  consentaneously, 
with  a  new  inspkation  and  for  the  earnest  of  a  true  benevolence.  Then 
we  bhall  have  the  God-man — the  perfect  man  in  Christ  Jesus. 

3.  If  this  be  so,  we  have  now  the  only  true  test  of  personal 
religion.  And  to  all  stages  of  progress,  from  the  remotest  step  to- 
ward religion  up  to  its  highest  ecstacies,  we  have  an  interpreting  key. 

There  are  many  who  do  not  believe  that  there  is  any  such  experi- 
ence as  that  which  is  called  conviction  of  sin.  They  do  not  believe 
that  men,  after  all,  are  sinners — certainly  not  such  dreadful  sinners  as 
to  be  subjected  to  proxysms  of  terror  and  of  darkness.  They  think 
tliat  this  idea  of  conviction  of  sin  is  fictitious,  and  that  men's  imagina- 
tions arc  })layed  upon  by  it.  They  think  that  men  are  deluded  in  regardl 
to  it.  Tliey  think  that  conviction  of  sin  is,  compared  to  the  truth,  veiy 
much  what  phantasmagoria,  or  pictures  produced  by  the  magic  lantern,, 
are  in  the  child's  imagination,  compared  to  realities,  or  daylight  pictures 
or  scenes.  They  do  not  feel  that  there  is  any  ground  or  reason  for  any 
Buch  experience  as  that.  I  cannot  undertake  to  speak  for  othere ;  but  one' 
thing  I  know — that  if  it  be  true  that  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost  a. 
man  may  come  to  the  full  consciousness  that  his  whole  being  has  been  set- 
to  the  wrong  key  ;  that  he  is  living  selfishly;  that  the  law  of  God^.the 
law  of  the  universe,  the  law  of  his  own  happiness,  the  law  of  unfold- 
ing in  God's  providence,  is  beneficence,  but  that  he  has  taken  th« 
wrong  track;  that  he  has  applied  the  wrong  principle;  that,  he  baa 


176  TEE  TB  UE  BE  LI  01  ON. 

unfolded  in  controvention  of  this  law ;  that  within,  and  without, 
though  there  may  be  in  his  nature  gleams  of  kindness  and  amiableness, 
yet  the  whole  force,  the  direction  and  the  organizing  influence  of  his 
life,  are  all  of  them  selfish,  and  not  beneficent — if  it  be  trae  that  a 
man  may  wake  up  to  find  that  he  is  on  a  mighty  stream  which  is  cai'- 
rying  him  away  from  light,  from  goodness,  from  divinity — then  I  do 
not  wonder  that  a  man  should  be  struck  through  and  through  with 
conviction,  and  that  conviction  should  be  of  the  most  poignant  kind, 
and  that  it  should  be  searching,  painful  and  unaj^peasable,  just  in  the 
ratio  of  the  sensibility  and  eminent  excellence  of  the  man's  nature. 
If  a  man  finds  himself,  all  parts  of  his  development  and  life,  at  vari- 
ance with  the  law  of  God,  is  not  the  discovery  of  this  monstrous  condi- 
tion anything? 

A  man  thinks  himself  the  owner  of  a  hundred  houses.  A  large 
estate  has  come  down  to  him.  Street  after  street_was  carved  out  of 
this  estate,  and  building  after  buUding  went  up  on  it.  He  considers 
himself,  and  is  considered  by  others,  to  be  a  millionau-e.  And  he  rests 
in  a  feeling  of  security,  till  some  day  there  comes  to  him  a  searching 
lawyer,  who  says,  "  I  have,  in  searching,  found,  back  at  the  beginning, 
a  flaw  that  vitiates  every  title  that  you  have.  You  do  not  own,  in 
justice,  su',  one  single  piece  of  property.  Not  the  value  of  one  penny 
in  this  whole  estate  is  youi'S."  Would  it  be  thought  a  very  surprising 
thing  if  that  man  should  start  up  and  say,  as  soon  as  he  could  sufii- 
eiently  recover  from  the  shock,  "  I,  that  supposed  I  was  a  millionau-e, 
am  a  pauper !  I  do  not  own  a  penny  on  earth."  And  yet,  what  is 
the  discoveiy  that  a  man  has  lost  his  property — so  that  he  has  kept 
his  manhood — compared  with  the  revelation,  the  vivid  sense,  that  a 
man  has  lost  all  that  happiness  and  all  that  immortality  which  every 
man,  in  his  reason,  and  in  proportion  to  his  reason,  anticipates  in  the 
future? 

Conviction  of  sin  does  not  requhe  that  a  man  should  charge  him- 
self with  murders  and  robberies  and  debaucheries ;  it  does  not  require 
that  he  should  believe  himself  guilty  of  all  manner  of  vulgarities  and 
vices  and  crimes.  It  is  quite  enough  that,  whereas  the  law  of  the  de- 
velopment of  true  manhood  is,  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength,  and 
with  all  thy  mind,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself,"  he  finds  out  that  his 
whole  being  has  been  flowing  in  another  direction.  To  find  that  out, 
£s  ground  and  reason  enough  for  distress — and  for  change,  too. 

Men  have  wondered  whether  there  was  any  such  thing  as  conver- 
sion. They  have  thought  it  to  be  some  influence  wrought  by  the  cor- 
t'uscation  of  the  spuit.  They  need  not  be  in  doubt  on  this  subject. 
It  is  simple,  and  very  easy  to  be   understood,  if  these  words  of  our 


TEE  TB  UE  RELIGION.  177 

\ 
Master  be  taken  as  a  test.  When  a  man,  from  a  life  of  self-seeking, 
and  of  indifference  to  his  fellows  and  to  God,  changes  the  supreme  end 
of  his  life,  and  becomes  an  earnest,  fuU-purjjosed  man  of  beneficence, 
and  says,  "  My  intellect  shall  think,  my  imagination  shall  invent,  my 
sentiments  shall  work,  my  affections  shall  burn,  for  this  one  influence  ; 
hereafter  I  dedicate  my  being  and  all  its  forces  to  the  service  of  God 
and  the  welfare  of  men,"  when  a  man  takes  this  view  of  religion — 
that  it  is  a  coming  into  the  spirit  of  love  ;  that  it  is  a  translation  out 
of  the  darkness  of  selfishness  and  self-seeking  into  the  higher  realm 
of  true  beneficence  ;  when  a  man  has  come  up  into  this  state  of  being, 
is  that  not  a  translation  which  may  well  be  called  being  horn  again  f 
Some  folks  think  that  it  must  mean  ecstacy,  that  it  must  mean  a  sense 
of  reconciliation,  that  it  must  mean  this,  that  or  the  other,  because 
these  are  frequently  incidents  to  that  state. 

I  am  not  saying  that  when  a  man  is  born  again,  and  brought  into 
sympathy  with  the  divine  Heart,  he  does  not  experience  reverence  and 
rapture,  and  that  some  natures  do  not  have  convictions  come  through 
such  feelings.  I  do  not  undertake  to  say  that  prayers  under  such  cir- 
cumstances are  not  spontaneous,  and  that  songs  of  praise  do  not  burst 
out  spontaneously.  I  merely  say  that  all  these  are  incidental,  and  not 
characteristic,  and  that  a  man  may  have  every  one  of  them  and  not 
be  a  Christian.  But  no  man  can  have  what  is  the  cause  of  them — if 
it  be  a  cause  ;  no  man  can  have  that  intense  disposition  which  fixes 
him  forever  on  the  side  of  God  as  a  God  of  love,  and  fixes  him  forever, 
intelligently  and  purposely,  on  the  side  of  happiness-making,  so  that  he 
feels,  "My  property,  my  personal  influence,  my  thought-jjower,  my 
genius  (if  I  have  it),  my  skill,  whatever  capacity  I  have,  shall  make 
the  world  happier  and  better:  I  do  not  hold  these  things  for  myself; 
I  hold  them  to  make  music  with,  for  the  enjoyment  of  others,  as  well 
as  for  my  own  enjoying ;  I  am  God's  son,  and  God  is  my  Father,  and 
all  men  are  my  brethren ;  and  there  is  not  a  better  thing,  nor  a  nobler 
thing,  nor  a  more  dutiful  thing,  than  for  me  to  spend  the  rest  of  my 
life  in  seeking  to  make  men  better  and  happier,  and  God  ha})pier,  in 
my  love," — no  man  can  have  that  and  not  be  converted.  Conversion 
is  rising  out  of  the  spirit  of  self-seeking  selfishness  into  the  spu'it  cf 
true  love  and  true  beneficence.     And  it  is  a  noble  experience. 

If  you  thought  there  was  such  a  thing  as  that,  do  you  not  think 
you  would  want  to  be  converted?  You  do  not  believe  in  creeds,  many 
of  you,  and  you  do  not  believe  in  liturgies,  and  you  do  not  believe 
much  in  long  faces  and  long  prayers,  and  you  do  not  believe  in  osten- 
tatious charity — there  are  a  hundred  things  that  you  do  not  believe  in. 
Most  men's  creeds  consist  in  what  they  do  not  believe,  and  not  in  what 
they  do  believe.     And  they  are  very  fruitful  creeds.     And  while  there 


178  THE  TRUE  RELIGION. 

are  a  thousand  Instruments  of  religion,  and  incidents  of  religion,  and 
concomitants  of  religion,  and  collaterals,  about  which  men  have  dispu- 
ted, I  put  this  question  to  you :  If  there  be  such  a  thing  as,  by  the 
Holy  Spirit  of  God,  being  brought  out  of  a  dominant  self-seeking,  into 
a  spirit  in  which,  morning,  noon  and  night,  the  soul  tends  towards  the 
promotion  of  the  welfare  of  others,  and  the  production  of  happiness 
in  others,  is  not  that  something  worth  being  converted  into  ?  Is  it 
not  something  worth  seeking  for  among  men  ?  And  if  that  should 
take  place  in  a  man,  would  it  not  ordinarily  make  such  a  revolution  in 
his  disposition  that  one  might  well  say  of  him,  "  He  is  as  one  raised 
from  the  dead.  He  is  indeed  born  again "  ?  Go  home  and  have  a 
little  inquiry-meeting  among  yourselves,  and  it  will  not  be  long  before 
you  will  be  able  to  give  affirmative  answers  to  these  questions. 

Take  the  servant  that  has  been  hard  to  manage  ;  that  has  been  sly, 
and  has  secreted  things ;  that  has  been  fractious,  and  answered  back 
again,  and  given  you  a  world  of  torment.  If  that  servant  should  become 
so  purely  simple  and  truly  kind  that  from  day-to-day  you  should  find  her 
not  seeking  her  own,  not  answering  back  again,  not  purloining^  accord- 
ing to  the  words  of  the  apostle,  polite,  kind,  seeking  your  welfare,  and 
the  welfare  of  everybody  in  the  family,  would  not  you,  and  everybody 
in  the  family,  say,  "  Why,  what  has  come  over  Betsy  ?  Something 
has  happened  to  her.  She  does  not  seem  like  herself  This  cannot 
last  long.  It  is  too  good  for  every  day."  And  if  that  continued  for 
some  weeks,  would  not  you  say,  "  She  is  not  the  same  creature.  I 
never  should  know  her.  She  is  totally  changed  "  %  It  is  simply  this  : 
that  before,  she  sought  selfish  ends  through  malign  ways ;  she  served 
with  eye-service  ;  but  now  she  has  come  to  a  conscientious  plane,  where 
she  is  seeking  to  do  her  duty.  And  her  kindness  to  you  is  unusual. 
She  looks  into  your  face  with  unwonted  frankness.  She  does  a  thou- 
sand things  that  are  not  called  for.  Her  acts  of  kindness  are  so  abun- 
dant and  so  spontaneous  that  you  cannot  but  feel  that  there  is  a  new 
life  awakened  in  her. 

Suppose  you  should  talk  with  her  (for  we  hardly  ever  hear  more 
than  half  the  story  in  respect  to  household  matters),  and  she  should 
say,  "  I  had  been  waked  at  untimely  hours  in  the  morning,  and  used 
to  be  kept  up  till  everybody  else  had  gone  to  bed — till  eleven,  or 
twelve,  or  sometimes,  one  o'clock,  and  nobody  cared  whether  the 
washing  was  big  or  little ;  and  I  was  scolded  all  the  time ;  I  was  a 
mere  servant ;  and  nobody  seemed  to  care  for  me.  But  my  mistress 
has  been  going  to  meetings  lately  ;  and  I  have  a  great  curiosity  to  go 
and  see  what  it  does  to  her,  she  is  so  changed.  Now  she  is  veiy  gen- 
tle toward  me  ;  she  is  afraid  I  will  work  too  much  ;  she  asks  after  my 
health ;  she  comes  into  the  kitchen  sometimes,  to  try  and  help  me ; 


THE  TRUE  RELIGION.  179 

and  really,  if  I  were  her  own  daughter  she  could  not  treat  me  better 
than  she  has  for  the  last  few  days.  If  it  goes  on  so,  I  do  not  know 
what  will  come  of  it?"  And  suppose  after  weeks  or  months  have  pass- 
ed by  you  should  question  Betsy,  and  say,  "  How  about  your  mistress 
now?"  and  she  should  say,  "  Oh !  she  is  a  perfect  angel.  I  never  saw 
anything  like  it,"  you  Avould  say  that  she  was  born  again,  would  you 
not? 

When  one  has  been  ninning  through  the  checkered  experience  of 
selfishness,  nothing  less  than  the  inspu-ation  of  the  Holy  Ghost  can  in- 
spii'e  him  and  lift  him  up  into  a  pure,  consistent,  uniform  beneficence, 
that  flows  out,  whether  they  think, or  act,  or  will,  or  work.  And  ev- 
erybody would  say  of  him,  "He  is  a  new  creature,  born  again." 

Conversion  and  regeneration  ai'e  not  only  really  possible,  but  they 
are  indispensable  ;  and  no  man  can  enter  the  kingdom  of  God,  which 
is  a  kingdom  of  love  and  joy  and  peace  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  unless  he 
is  born  again.  Selfishness  shall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God. 
Holiness  means  the  purity  with  which  comes  a  time  benevolence.  With- 
out this  there  can  be  no  life  of  bliss  here  or  hereafter. 

4.  This  is  the  true  gauge  by  which  to  measure  the  sjjread,  the  progi'ess, 
of  religion  in  the  soul.  We  are  apt  to  confound  the  question  of  growth 
in  grace  with  the  Greek  idea  of  acquisition,  self-culture.  But  nothing 
is  more  stimulating  to  culture  than  a  true  religion.  And  the  gauge  of 
religion  is  the  intensity  and  the  productiveness  of  the  love  principle. 
He  is  the  greatest,  and  is  growing  most  into  the  likeness  of  Christ,  not 
that  has  the  most  sco])e  intellectually,  not  that  is  the  most  fertile  in  his 
moral  nature,  not  that  is  the  most  rapturous  in  his  emotions,  not  that 
sings  with  the  most  spirit  and  understanding,  not  that  prays  with  the 
most  devotion,  but  that  has  the  strongest  and  finest  current  of  disinter- 
ested benevolence.  And  this  is  the  spirit  of  Christ's  declaration,  "Who- 
soever would  be  chief  among  you,  let  him  be  your  servant."  Love 
goes  to  the  bottom — never  to  the  top.  Love  serves,  and  cannot  help 
it  A  person  that  truly  loves  another  always  longs  for  something  to 
do  for  that  other ;  and  the  harder  it  is,  the  better.  The  more  unex- 
pected and  the  more  uncalled  for  the  service,  the  more  declarative  is 
that  which  love  always  wants  to  make  an  exhibition  of — its  intensity. 
Love  is  self-sacrifice.     It  is  service. 

And  he  who  grows  in  gi-ace  is  not  the  man  who  is  the  strictest.  A 
man  may  be  so  strict  that  he  shall  keep  the  Sabbath  day  like  a  Pharisee 
and  a  Puritan  (and  those  two  would  keep  it  so  tight  as  to  crack  every 
cord  that  you  put  around  it) ;  a  man  may  pray  so  that  there  shall  not 
be  an  unpeifumed  hour  through  the  day  ;  a  man  may  keep  angels  busy 
carrying  up  his  prayei"s ;  a  man  may  be  so  zealous  and  so  active  that 
there  shall  not  be  a  neglected  street  that  his  enterprise  shall  not  rake 


180  TEE  tutte  religion: 

and  search  ;  and  yet  he  may  not  be  a  growing  Christian.     I  must  read 
this  passage : 

"  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels,  and  have  not 
love,  I  am  become  as  sounding  brass,  or  a  tinkling  cymbal." 

Men  think  that  all  they  need  is  the  power  to  speak  fluently  and  elo- 
quently. A  great  many  say  to  themselves,  "  If  I  was  only  Demosthe- 
nian,  or  Ciceronian  ;  if  I  coxild  only  get  up  in  meetings  before  my 
brethren,  and  tell  them  what  I  feel ;  if  I  could  only  pour  out  my  emo- 
tions in  beautiful  strains,  with  the  air  of  such  and  such  an  eminent 
Christian  ;  if  1  could  only  sing  as  the  angels  sing,  I  should  be  a  good 
Christian."  But  the  apostle  says,  "No  ;  if  you  speak  with  the  tongues 
of  men  and  of  angels,  and  have  not  love,  it  will  not  make  you  a  Chris- 
tian."    And  how  he  derides  it ! 

Did  you  ever  see  anything  that  was,  on  the  whole,  so  absolutely 
empty  as  cymbals — ^those  gi'eat  plates  of  brass  which  they  carry  around 
with  big  bands  to  make  a  crushing  noise  with  ;  tambourines — those 
great  rattling  humbugs  that  are  used  to  make  music  in  pantomine  ; 
castanets — those  rude  instruments  made  on  purpose  to  merely  mark 
time  or  cover  up  the  discords  of  other  instruments  ?  These  unctuous 
men  ;  these  round,  hollow  speakers,  who  tell  what  the  Lord  has  done 
for  theu-  souls,  who  pour  out  such  streams  of  exhortation  as  make  men's 
hau-  stand  on  end,  and  make  every  young  neophyte  feel,  "  Oh !  that  I 
was  such  a  Christian  !" — what  says  Paul  about  them  ?  That  they  are 
as  "  sounding  brass."  That  there  is  brass  we  know  ;  and  that  they 
are  sounding  we  know.  "  Tinkling  cymbals  they  are,"  says  the  apos- 
tle, "  mere  nothings,  of  no  account,  without  love."  Ah  !  if  there  was 
only  love  there,  then  their  speaking  would  be  like  the  chants  of  those 
who  sang  together  when  all  the  sons  of  the  morning  shouted  for  joy ; 
but  without  love  it  is  to  be  considered  of  no  account,  as  having  no  va^ 
lidity.  A  proud  man  that  speaks  beautifully,  a  selfish  man  that  j^rays 
splendidly,  a  worldly  minded  man  that  is  full  of  exhortation  and  spu-- 
itual  knowledge,  is,  Paul  says,  of  no  account  at  all. 

"  Though  I  have  the  gift  of  prophecy  [of  instruction],  and  understand 
all  mysteries  and  all  knowledge ;  and  though  I  have  faith,  so  that  I  could 
remove  mountains,  and  have  not  love,  I  am  nothing." 

Here  is  a  prudent  man.  He  is  a  grave  man,  and  a  sound,  sound 
man.  Yoii  cannot  catch  him  anywhere.  He  can  interj^ret  eveiy  verse 
of  the  Bible.  He  has  read  the  Bible  through  twice  a  year  ever  since 
he  was  a  child.  -He  can  quote  the  whole  of  it,  pretty  much.  There  is 
not  a  single  difficult  passage  that  he  cannot  give  a  solution  o£  He  is 
a  perfect  encyclopaedia.  He  never  did  anything  for  anybody,  nor  cared 
for  anybody ;  but  he  feels  that  he  knows  about  everything,  and  is  proud 
to  think  that  he  knows  so  much,  and  that  people  look  up  to  him  and 
idolize  him.     He  knows  how  idols  feel  when  fools  worship  them !    And 


TEE  TRUE  RELiaiOK  181 

the  apostle  says  of  this  man,  "  Though  he  have  the  gift  of  prophecy 
and  understand  all  mysteries,  and  all  knowledge;  and  though  he  have 
faith,  so  that  he  could  remove  mountains,  and  have  not  love,  he  is  noth- 
ing at  all.     He  is  a  humbug — an  empty  show — a  pretence." 

"  And  though  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to  feed  the  poor,  and  though  I 
give  my  body  to  be  burned,  and  have  not  love,  it  profiteth  me  nothing." 

What !  can  a  man  give  his  goods  to  feed  the  poor  on  any  other 
ground  than  that  of  charity,  or  love  ?  O  yes,  on  a  great  many  other 
grounds.  It  is  very  probable  that  the  apostle  had  in  his  mind  the  do- 
nations that  the  imperial  Casars  were  accustomed  to  give  in  Rome, 
where  they  sj)ent  millions  of  pounds  sterling  to  furnish  plays  and  thea- 
trical show's,  and  distributed  gifts  among  the  peoj^le  in  order  to  secure 
their  votes.  They  stole  the  revenues  of  the  State  in  order  to  bribe  the 
citizens  of  the  State — a  thing  which  is  not  strange  even  to  modern 
times ! 

Paul  says  that  such  giving  is  not  generosity.  A  man  may  give  all 
his  goods  to  feed  the  poor  for  partisan  purposes,  or  from  partisan  zeal. 
A  man  may  even  give  his  body  to  be  burned,  to  show  how  earnest  and 
sincere  he  is  in  the  cause  which  he  has  espoused,  from  other  motives 
than  love.  And  if  a  man  has  not  love,  all  these  things  joro^^  him  noth- 
ing. Love  is  the  only  coin  that  passes  current  at  the  gate  of  heaven. 
All  God's  angels  are  enjoined  to  take  taxes  in  nothing  but  that  cur- 
rency. You  may  carry  up  your  gold,  and  silver,  and  copper,  and  iron, 
and  lead ;  but  they  are  good  for  nothing  there. 

He  that  has  entered  into  the  true  spirit  of  love,  and  lives  in  it,  and 
speaks  of  it,  and  sings  in  it,  and  works  in  it,  is  a  Christian ;  but  he  that 
works,  and  sings,  and  speaks,  and  lives  in  any  other  spirit  except  that 
of  love,  is  not  a  Christian.  He  has  not  reached  the  typical  character 
which  belongs  to  Christ's  disciples.  And  just  in  proportion  as  this 
spirit  grows  in  a  man,  he  is  growing  in  Christ.  He  is  the  truest  Chris- 
tian that  is  becoming  the  sweetest,  the  mildest,  the  easiest  to  be  en- 
treated, the  gentlest.  He  that  is  overcoming  the  obliquities  of  his 
natural  temper ;  he  that  is  working  out,  one  after  another,  every  part 
and  element  of  his  nature,  so  that  he  lives  habitually  in  a  Christlike 
disposition,  in  a  spirit  of  love,  is  the  one  that  is  growing  in  grace. 

If  then,  you  want  to  know  whether  you  are  growing  in  grace  or 
not,  do  not  ask  yourself.  Do  you  love  to  pray  ?  Hundreds  of  men  have 
gone  to  hell  that  loved  to  pray.  Do  you  like  to  read  your  Bible  ? 
Thousands  of  peraons  have  liked  to  read  their  Bible  who  were  not 
Christians.  Do  you  enjoy  meetings?  There  are  many  things  in  meet- 
ings that  people  who  are  not  Christians  like  to  hear.  A  well-conducted 
religious  meeting  often  presents  the  highest  type  of  thought  to  the  un- 
derstanding and  to  the  taste,  in  modern  society.     A  properly  served 


182  THE  TRUE  RELIGION. 

platform  leaves  no  part  of  the  human  mind  unfed.  And,  therefore,  for 
academic  reasons,  men  may  enjoy  the  ministrations  of  the  sanctuary  on 
the  Sabbath,  or  on  week-days.     So  that  these  things  are  not  tests. 

The  true  test  question  in  regard  to  a  man's  growing  in  grace,  is  not 
whether  he  likes  or  does  not  like  the  instruments  and  accessories  of  re- 
ligion, but  whether  or  not  he  likes  religion  itself,  with  all  its  gentleness, 
all  its  self-denial,  and  all  its  fruits. 

Child,  do  your  father  and  mother  say  of  you,  "  That  child  is  sweeter 
than  ever  before?"  If  they  do,  you  are  giving  evidence  that  you  are 
gi'owing  in  grace.  Young  man,  do  your  companions  say  of  you,  "  He 
never  before  was  half  so  good  a  fellow  as  he  has  been  since  he  went 
into  the  church.  He  has  certain  notions  of  right  and  wrong  which  he 
cannot  be  severed  from,  and  his  ideas  of  rectitude  are  rather  strict;  but 
he  is  always  trying  to  keep  us  out  of  mischief,  and  to  make  us  better. 
Wherever  he  goes  he  is  cheerful,  gentle,  kind,  beneficent,  benevolent, 
full  of  goodness  ?"  I  like  to  hear  such  things  said  of  a  young  man,  be- 
cause they  are  to  me  evidence  that  he  is  growing  in  grace. 

If  you  should  come  to  me  and  say,  "  Mr.  Beecher,  I  do  not  think 
enough  about  religion :  can  you  tell  me  how  I  can  form  the  habit  of 
thinking  more  on  that  subject  ?"  I  would  say,  "  Do  not  trouble  your- 
self too  much  about  this  matter.  The  power  of  meditation  is  one  of 
the  ripe  fruits  of  the  understanding,  which  comes  later.  Do  not  be 
discouraged  if  you  have  the  main  thing.  A  heart  that  breathes  kind- 
ness and  love — that  is  the  main  thing.  Love  God  with  all  your  heart, 
and  your  fellow  men  as  yourself,  and  then  you  will  grow  in  grace ;  and 
your  growth  in  grace  will  be  just  in  proportion  to  the  growth  of  the 
instinct  of  love. 

It  is  the  true  gauge,  also,  by  which  to  measure  the  spread  of  the 
Gospel' in  this  world.  Of  coui'se,  it  is  necessary  to  the  spread  of  the 
Gospel  that  there  shall  be  some  external  instruments.  I  do  not  mean 
that  the  Gospel  can  spread  merely  by  the  diffusion  of  sentiments.  Ac- 
cording to  the  word  of  the  apostle : 

"  How  shall  they  call  on  him  in  whom  they  have  not  believed  ?  and  how 
shall  they  believe  in  him  of  whom  they  have  not  heard?  and  how  shall 
they  hear  without  a  preacher  ?" 

The  spread  of  the  Gospel,  of  course,  implies  the  spread  of  know- 
ledge— the  knowledge  of  Christ — the  knowledge  of  true  religion  in 
Christ  Jesus  ;  but  when  these  things  have  been  spread,  only  the  exter- 
nal instruments  of  religion  have  been  spread.  The  spread  of  kindness 
and  good-will,  rather  than  of  avaiice,  or  greediness,  or  oppression,  or 
wrong-doing — that  is  the  spread  of  religion. 

We  are  spreading  religion  by  sending  ship-loads  and  ship -loads  of 
reUgion  to  China  and  to  India,  in  the  shape  of  Bibles  and  tracts — and 


THE  TRUE  RELIGION.  183 

that  is  all  very  well.  We  are  sending  missionaries  to  those  that  do  not 
know  how  to  use  a  knowledge  of  the  Gospel,  and  we  are  staying  at 
home  and  praying  for  the  success  of  these  missionaries,  who  are  working 
against  caste,  and  sympathizing  with  the  people.  In  a  variety  of  ways 
we  are  sending  the  Gospel  abroad  all  over  the  world.  And  that  is 
right.  But  it  is  only  the  letter,  the  outward  Gospel,  that  we  are  send- 
ing. And  our  missionary  spuit  is  in  the  ratio  of  that  benevolence 
which  wishes  well  to  every  human  being,  and  which  will  manifest  itself 
most  toward  those  that  want  most,  and  toward  those  that  are  out  of 
the  way. 

In  order  to  ascertain  what  your  missionary  spirit  is,  I  need  only  to 
find  out  how  you  treat  those  that  are  around  about  you — your  servants, 
your  subordinates,  yom-  adversaries,  those  that  are  poor  and  unpopular 
and  des})ised  in  the  community.  The  man  that  does  not  dare  to  stand 
\\\)  for  a  bad  cause,  as  he  calls  it — that  is,  an  unpopular  cause  ;  the  man 
that  is  afraid  to  be  associated  with  any  new  movement  which  is  inau- 
gurated for  the  welfare  of  mankind  ;  the  man  who  is  afraid  to  take 
hold  of  the  foundations  of  things,  because  these  foundations  lie  in  the 
mud,  and  he  does  not  want  to  dirty  his  white  hands,  or  does  not  want 
tolosehisposition,that  man  has  not  the  missionary  spirit.  He  does  not 
spread  the  Gospel  who  merely  spreads  Bibles.  The  Gospel  goes  on 
wings  of  love  ;  and  only  he  who  knows  how  to  send  out  a  self-sacrificing 
heart,  knows  how  to  send  out  the  knowledge  of  Christ.  For  the  know- 
ledge of  Clirist  cannot  be  interpreted  by  the  letter.  You  may  send  abroad 
thousands  of  Bibles  ;  but  not  more  than  one  in  a  million  can  learn  the 
knowledge  of  Christ  by  the  letter.  There  is  needed,  in  addition  to  the 
letter,  the  presence  and  example  of  the  living  minister,  who,  carrying 
the  letter,  shall,  by  his  labors  for  those  who  cannot  pay  him  again,  by 
the  manifestation  of  disinterested  love  toward  them,  show  them,  through 
long  probation  and  trial,  what  religion  is  in  its  real  practical  form. 
That  is  the  fundamental  idea  of  the  Chi'istian  minister,  and  of  all  who 
labor  in  the  cause  of  the  Gospel — not  that  they  are  men  who  can  utter 
fine  sentences ;  not  that  they  are  expositors  of  philosophy ;  not  that 
they  are  interpreters  of  enigmas ;  not  that  they  are  expounders  of  the 
law ;  but  that  they  are  men  who  have  themselves  been  made  men  in 
that  very  spirit  of  God  into  which  they  would  lead  otliers.  And  they 
will  be  influential  in  proportion  as  they  exemplify  that  which  they  at 
the  same  time  teach  the  [)hilosophy  of 

When,  therefore,  I  look  out  on  the  world,  and  ask  what  has  been 
the  measure  of  Christianity  among  men,  I  say.  There  has  been  a  great 
advance ;  very  much  has  been  done  ;  but  I  do  not  think  the  millenni- 
um is  going  to  come  in  your  day  nor  in  mine.  When  I  consider  that 
of  the   twelve  hundred  millions  or  more  of  inhabitants  of  the  globe, 


184  THE  TMUE  RELIGION. 

there  are  not,  probably,  five  hundred  millions  that  have  ever  been  reach- 
ed with  even  the  reflected  light  of  the  Gospel,  and  that  all  the  rest  are 
living  in  barbarity,  in  a  savage  state,  in  heathenism,  I  see  that  though 
a  great  deal  has  been  accomplished,  a  great  deal  more  remains  to  be  ac- 
complished. 

Look  at  the  nations  of  the  earth.  Look  at  the  policies  which  exist 
in  society.  Look  at  the  existing  state  of  government.  Look  at  the 
laws  which  prevail.  Look  at  the  customs  that  are  extant.  Are  these 
customs  beneficent  ?  Many  of  them  are.  But  is  beneficence  the  gen- 
eral type  of  the  customs  that  prevail  on  the  globe  ?  Is  not  selfishness 
national,  as  between  man  and  man  ? 

Look  at  the  maxims  and  proverbs  of  the  world.  More  than  half  of 
them  are  of  the  devil's  coinage ;  and  they  express  the  wisdom  of  the 
malign  feelings — the  wisdom  of  selfishness. 

Look  at  the  laws  of  the  globe.  They  carry  a  great  deal  of  justice 
with  them,  and  serve  an  important  end,  imperfect  as  they  are ;  but  how 
unjust  is  justice  in  this  world !  How  rude  an  instrument,  yet,  is  civil 
society  !  How  clumsy  are  the  machineries  and  appliances  of  govern- 
ment! And  how  are  men  made  more  to  suffer  than  to  enjoy  by  the 
operation  of  national  government !  There  is  only  one  thing  that  I 
think  is  worse.  Anarchy  is  so  bad  that  I  think  that  it  is  better  to  have 
government ;  but  government  is  the  next  worse  thing.  The  grossest, 
the  crudest,  the  most  selfish,  the  most  easily  pervertible  and  perverted 
thing  in  this  world,  is  government.  The  history  of  government  through 
the  ages  that  are  passed  is  a  history  red — nay,  lurid.  The  history  of 
law  is  the  history  of  crushing. 

Look  at  the  progress  of  order.  The  world  has  been  bedewed  with 
tears  by  the  struggles  of  what  is  called  order.  The  spiiit  of  national 
life  and  oi'ganized  society  is  coarse,  rude,  barbaric,  hard. 

What  is  the  spirit  of  Christian  nations  to-day  ?  What  is  our  posi- 
tion as  a  boasted  Christian  nation  ?  Let  a  man  search  into  our  civil 
policy  ;  into  the  spirit  of  our  jurisprudence ;  into  the  spuit  of  our 
statesmanship  ;  mto  the  spu-it  of  om-  commerce ;  into  our  administra- 
tions in  every  direction,  and  he  will  find  that  they  are  sadly  wanting 
in  this  foundation  element  of  love. 

Whatever  may  be  true  of  individual  households,  of  churches  here 
and  there,  and  of  single  creeds,  can  you  say  that  the  community  has 
become  Christianized  so  that  it  is  characterized  by  the  spirit  of  purity 
and  true  love  %  Is  not  self-seeking  yet  the  law  of  national  life  here  ? 
And  we  boast  of  being  in  advance  of  all  other  nations  in  justice  and 
equity  and  righteous  dealing.  If  any  other  nation  boasted  half  as 
much  as  the  Americans  do,  they  would  be  called  conceited  and  vain. 
It  is  only  because  we  are  so  smart  that  it  is  not  conceit  in  us !    We  ai'e 


I 


THE  TRUE  RELIQIOK  185 

the  Cliristlans  par  excellence  on  the  globe.  And  not  only  does  our 
Christianity  take  the  precedence  of  that  of  all  other  nations,  but  every- 
thing we  have  is  superior  to  anything  that  belongs  to  others.  We  have 
a  better  country,  and  a  better  government,  and  better  laws,  and  better 
usages,  and  better  scenery,  and  better  trees,  and  better  rocks,  and  bet- 
ter water,  and  a  better  summer,  and  a  better  winter,  and  a  better  every- 
thing, than  anybody  else  has.  We  are  brought  up  to  admii'e  eveiy- 
thing  that  is  American,  and  to  hate  the  haughty  British,  the  frog-eating 
French,  and  everything  that  is  foreign.  O  !  We  are  the  people,  and 
wisdom  shall  die  with  us  !  And  yet,  when  you  come  to  look  at  the 
great  features  of  life  in  this  country,  at  the  actual  display  of  this  spirit 
of  good-will,  and  kindness,  and  true  love,  how  barbaric  we  are  still ! 

Look  across  the  sea,  and  behold  those  nations  that  are  armed  to  the 
very  teeth.  Nations  are  to-day  just  what,  in  the  old  feudal  times, 
barons'  castles  were — private  dwellings  armed  against  invasion  day  and 
night,  and  all  the  time.  Look  at  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of  men 
of  France,  that  are  kept  in  camps  ;  and  look  at  the  almost  millions  of 
idle  men  that  are  supported  by  those  that  labor ;  look  at  those  that  are 
operating  against  industry  in  both  Avays — by  making  other  men's  work 
in  a  measure  unproductive,  and  by  eating  up  what  they  produce  to 
support  them  in  the  maintenance  of  brute  armed  force.  Look  at  the 
condition  of  Gei'raany,  associated  with  the  Prussian  Empire,  armed,  and 
waiting  for  conflict.  Look  at  Austria,  that  is  recuperating,  that  is 
like  the  lion  wounded  but  getting  well,  and  will  soon  be  ready  to 
strike  again  with  his  crippled  but  now  well-nigh  recovered  paw. 
Look  at  the  Russian  Empire,  in  which  there  are  signs  that  betoken  war. 
Listen  to  the  sounds  that  are  in  the  earth.  What  are  they  ?  They  are 
the  sounds  of  the  ponderous  trip-hammer  running  night  and  day  in  the 
shop  where  deadly  weapons  are  made.  They  are  the  sounds  of  the 
gurgling  red-hot  kon  in  the  foundiy  where  cannon  and  other  muni- 
tions of  war  are  cast.  They  are  the  sounds  that  come  up  from  the 
yards  where  night  and  day  men  are  at  work  building  ships  for  warlike 
purposes.  All  over  the  world  the  ingenuity  of  mechanics  is  exercised 
for  the  production  of  more  efficient  means  of  inflicting  brute  violence. 
And  has  Christianity  spread  ? 

We  are  going  to  have,  in  September,  the  meeting  of  a  Christian 
alliance  representing  the  Christian  nations  of  the  globe.  They  are 
coming  together  to  rejoice  and  triumph  over,  and  to  seek  to  promote,  the 
spread  of  the  Gospel  in  the  world.  A  kind  of  Protestant  OEcumenical 
Council,  it  is  to  be ;  and  we  are  going  to  see  if  we  cannot  make  the 
Lord  Jesus  Chi-ist  Pope  infallible  I  And  yet,  what  a  sad  thing  it  will 
be  for  them  to  tell  what  is  the  condition  of  things  in  all  the  globe  ! 
What  a  sad  thing  it  will  be  for  them  to  tell  how  the  world  ia  yet 


186  THE  TRUE  BELIQION. 

ruled  by  Satan,  ^y\\\\  a  triple  crown  of  selfishness  on  his  head ;  and 
how  lust,  license  and  avarice  are  supreme  ! 

Ah !  my  brethren,  there  is  a  work  to  be  done  yet  on  earth.  "  The 
kingdoms  of  this  world  are  not  yet  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ."  And  when  he  comes  to  reign,  it  must  be  after 
centuries  of  summers  have  ripened  the  human  heart,  and  brought  forth 
other  fruit  than  this  acerb  and  bitter  fruit  of  hating  and  of  fighting. 

5.  We  are  able,  in  the  light  of  this  test  of  true  religion,  to  form 
some  judgment  respecting  the  religious  sects,  and  the  different  churches 
that  are  swarming  upon  the  earth,  in  altercation  and  in  strife,  either 
holy  or  unholy.  The  earth  is  filled  with  different  denominations,  and 
they  are  fighting  each  other,  in  apostolicity,  in  authority,  and  in  ortho- 
doxy, or  purity  of  doctrine. 

Now,  let  me  not  be  thought  to  decry  organization,  nor  apostolicity, 
whatever  that  may  be — I  hope  it  is  something  good !  All  churches 
ought  to  be  apostolic,  and  all  churches  ought  to  be  invested  with  au- 
thority, and  all  churches  ought  to  be  orthodox,  and  all  churches  claim 
that  they  are ;  and  they  are  rivals  of  each  other.  What  I  wish  to  do, 
is  not  to  decide  between  them,  but  to  ask  you  whether  in  the  histoiy 
of  Christianity  it  has  been  a  fact  that  the  emphasis  of  the  church  has 
all  been  put  on  this — that  true  religion  is  loving.  One  man  says  that 
you  are  in  the  true  church  when  you  are  in  the  church  that  has  been 
regularly  handed  down  from  bishop  to  bishop  from  the  very  apostle's 
touch,  and  when  you  have  been  duly  confirmed  by  its  ordinances. 
Another  man  thinks  that  that  is  the  true  church  which  conforms  ex- 
actly to  "the  faith  which  was  once  delivered  to  the  saints." 

A  farmer  shears  his  sheep,  and  has  a  huge  heap  of  wool.  The 
scourer  scours  it,  and  the  carder  cards  it,  and  the  spinner  spins  it,  and 
the  weaver  weaves  it,  and  the  tailor  cuts  it  out,  and  makes  it  into  the 
the  soldier's  dress,  and  the  yeoman's  dress,  and  the  child's  di'ess ;  and 
here  stands  the  man  pointing  to  the  sheep,  and  saying,  "Look  at  this 
vast  wardrobe.  This  is  the  loool  that  loas  once  delivered  from,  the 
sheep."  After  it  has  gone  through  the  hands  of  the  scourer,  and  the 
carder,  and  the  spinner,  and  the  weaver,  and  the  tailor,  and  has  been 
made  into  every  fantastic  shape,  they  say  it  is  the  loool  that  was  once 
delivered  to  them. 

The  apostles  gave  to  the  world  a  few  elementary  truths,  and  men 
have  taken  them,  and  scoured  them,  and  carded  them,  and  spun  them, 
and  woven  them,  and  cut  them  up,  and  put  them  into  priests'  gar- 
ments, and  elders'  garments,  and  deacons'  garments,  and  all  sorts  of 
garments ;  and  now  they  are  quaiTclling  over  the  "  faith  which  was 
once  delivered  to  the  saints."  As  if  the  doctrines  which  they  hold 
would  be  recognized  by  those  to  whom  they  are  ascribed !     There  isJ 


X. 

The  True  Religion, 


INVOCATION. 


2Iay  15, 1S70. 

IOOK  upon  UP,  our  Fatlier,  graciously.  Tliou  liast  not  forgotten  to 
-^  awake  the  earth,  and  soiul,  therefore,  its  blessings.  Neither  hast  thou 
forgotten  us  in  the  watches  of  the  night.  We  renien>ber  that  thou  hast  over- 
hung our  spirits  through  tlie  morning.  And  not  clearer  and  brighter  is  the 
sun  in  the  outward  heaveti  than  is  the  sun  of  love,  that  Light  of  the  soul 
which  thou  hast  shed  abroad,  whose  power  we  have  felt,  and  whose  invita- 
tion has  brought  us  hither.  Come,  then,  Ave  beseech  of  thee,  that  we  may 
more  especially  know  and  feel  thy  presence  and  thy  power  in  the  sanctuary. 
And  ])lcss  past  blessings.  And  by  sacred  memories  may  the  house  of  God 
again  become  sacred — dearer  to  us  than  any  other  place.  Here  wilt  thou 
comfort,  lighten,  strengthen  and  inspire.  Here  wilt  thou  help  us  in  fellow- 
ship one  with  another  to  sing  thy  praises.  Here  may  we  listen  to  thee. 
Here  may  we  find  our  happiness  in  devotions  to  thee.  And  may  the  services 
of  the  sanctuary,  and  all  the  joy  and  occupation  of  this  live-long  day,  be 

such  as  shall  honor  thy  name.    Which  we  "isk  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 
10 


THE  TRUE  RELIGIOK  187 

many  a  doctrine  that  is  called  Pauline  theology,  of  which  Paul,  if  it 
were  presented  to  him,  would  say,  "  What  stuif  is  this "?"  And  I  think 
there  are  veiy  few  churches  on  earth  at  present  that  Christ  could  be 
made  a  member  of  The  qiialifications  of  most  of  them  are,  I  think, 
sucli  as  would  exclude  him  from  membership  in  them.  And  men  dif- 
fer and  are  contending,  and  are  filled  M'ith  violence  and  temper,  on  ac- 
count of  the  various  claims  which  they  have  set  up.  And  they  go  so 
far  tliat  they  have  not  a  spirit  of  true  Christian  charity.  Having  re- 
ceived the  benediction  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  having  proved  them- 
selves to  be  lineal  successors  of  the  apostles  who  were  appointed  by 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  himself,  and  were  his  representatives,  they  have 
shown  this  spirit  of  love  by  burning  men  up,  by  throwing  them  into 
prisons,  and  by  making  them  wear  chains  all  their  lives.  I  believe 
that,  much  as  has  been  the  joy  that  has  been  made  in  this  world,  more 
has  been  the  misery  that  has  been  made  by  men  who  represented  re- 
ligion and  called  the  ohurch  the  Chut'c/i  of  God.  The  tears  have  been 
ocean-deep,  and  the  anguish  has  been  heaven-high ;  and  no  historian's 
pen  can  ever  compass  that  story  of  divine  anguish.  One  single  mon^ 
arch — Philip  II.  of  Spain — slew  in  one  nation  more  than  eighty  thou- 
sand men,  and  went  avowedly  to  cut  off  every  man,  woman  and  child 
in  the  Netherlands.  For  the  sake  of  his  faith  he  would  not  have 
hesitated  to  devastate  the  globe.  While  the  Mahomedaus  were  thun- 
dering at  the  gates  of  Eastern  European  Capitals  to  propagate  theii* 
faith,  we  were  thundering  back  from  the  West  to  propagate  our  faith. 
The  cannon,  the  spear  and  the  dungeon  have  for  hundreds  of  years, 
been  occupying  a  veiy  large  portion  of  the  time  of  those  that  called 
themselves  the  descendants  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Chiist. 

Now,  we  have  been  engaged  in  this  kind  of  persecution.  If  a  man 
does  not  believe  just  as  we  do,  how  sweet  soever  his  life  may  be,  how- 
ever pure  and  gentle  and  large  he  may  be,  however  much  his  conduct 
may  be  characterized  by  the  spirit  of  love,  if  we  know  that  he  sets  aside 
the  articles  of  the  church,  and  does  not  believe  in  them,  that  ends  it. 
We  put  doctrine  against  love.  Though  a  man  has  all  love,  if  he  has 
not  doctrine,  we  reject  him.  Whereas,  if  there  is  one  thing  that  is 
unquestionable,  it  is  that  the  only  thing  that  doctrine  is  good  for,  is  to 
make  the  life  what  it  should  be. 

And  yet,  the  vast  system  of  man-made  doctrines,  and  the  vast  reti- 
nue of  services,  and  the  vast  organizations  of  the  church,  have  not 
tended,  in  the  main,  to  produce  gentleness,  and  peace,  and  love,  and 
beneficence.  On  the  contraiy,  they  have  tended  to  produce  envies,  and 
jealousies,  and  conflicts,  and  cruelties  unutterable.  And  the  practice 
of  the  Church  of  Christ  on  earth  for  a  thousand  years  has  been  simply 
infernal.     I  know  what  I  say.     I  speak  no  hasty  words.     I  declare 


188  THE  TRUE  RELIGION. 

that  through  long  periods  the  characteristic  actions  of  the  organized 
external  churches  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  have  better  befitted  the 
administrations  of  devils  than  of  men.  This  externahty,  with  all  its  pre- 
tense of  authenticity,  apostolicy  and  traditional  regularity,  is  contin- 
ually vaunted  and  held  up.  And  when  men  say  what  I  have  said,  and 
what  I  say  again,  and  what  I  will  testify  to  so  long  as  the  breath  of 
life  is  in  me,  that  the  spirit  of  Christ  is  love  ;  and  that  he  who  truly 
loves  God  and  men  is  a  Christian,  no  matter  in  w^hat  church  he  is 
found,  nor  in  what  circumstances  he  is  placed,  men  say,  "  You  are 
knocking  the  foundation  out  from  under  things."  In  other  words,  the 
world  has  taken  up  the  instruments  of  religion  and  put  them  against 
religion  itself,  and  preferred  the  instruments. 

Now,  I  take  religion  ;  and  if  I  am  let  alone  I  will  not  deny  its 
instruments.  I  believe  in  instruments ;  I  believe  in  doctrine ;  I  believe 
in  church  organization  ;  I  believe  in  the  utility  of  wisely  administered 
ordinances.  These  things  are  im^^ortant.  But  I  say  that  wherever 
the  two  come  in  conflict,  I  must  take  religion.  No  casket  is  ever  so 
precious  as  the  jewel  that  the  casket  carries.  Religion  is  the  jewel, 
and  the  church  is  the  casket  which  is  carrying  it ;  and  we  must  learn 
that  the  spirit  of  the  Lord,  the  indwelling  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  humility 
and  gentleness  and  meekness  in  Christ  Jesus  are  the  signs  and  tests 
of  Christ  present  in  anybody's  heart.  And  where  these  are  found  in 
a  man,  do  not  stop  to  ask  what  name  he  is  called  by,  but  take  him, 
for  Christ  is  in  him.  They  are  Christ's,  not  who  are  in  the  regular 
church,  but  who  are  in  the  regular  heart,  in  the  regular  spirit. 

Sometimes  people  think  that  this  is  undervaluing  ordinances.  No, 
it  is  not.  It  is  laying  a  law  upon  them.  It  is  laying  a  law  upon 
preaching  that  will  be  most  wholesome  to  it.  When  men  cease  to 
worship  outward  form ;  when  they  come  to  see  the  interior  of  things ; 
when  they  come  to  see  the  actual  condition  of  things,  and  to  act  ac- 
cordingly, the  world  will  be  better,  the  church  will  be  purer,  men 
will  be  truer  Christians,  and  the  cause  of  God  will  advance  faster  upon 
the  earth,  and  all  mankind  will  sooner  behold  the  salvation  of  our  God. 

When  you  look  over  the  condition  of  society,  nothing  but  the  most 
abject  self-complacency  can  lead  men  to  say,  "  The  world  is  pretty  well 
off.  What  is  the  use  of  disturbing  things  any  more  ?  What  is  the 
use,  just  as  soon  as  you  have  got  through  with  one  revolution,  as  soon 
as  one  war  is  finished,  of  going  into  some  new-fangled  notion,  some 
new  progress,  some  new  cause  ?" 

Do  you,  then,  think  that  the  world  is  ripe  In  love  ?  Do  you  really 
think  that  men,  as  you  know  them,  are  good  enough?  Do  you  think 
that  the  spirit  of  true  Christian  love  dwells  in  them  *?  Do  you  think 
that  the  relations  of  all  classes  in  society  to  each  other  are  equitable, 


THE  TRUE  RELIGION.  189 

and  in  accordance  with  a  true  spiritual  beneficence?  Do  you  think 
that  the  men  ^\ho  groan  at  the  bottom  of  society  are  there  rightfully? 
Do  you  think  that  the  laws  of  labor  have  all  been  explored,  and  settled 
on  the  basis  of  true  Christian  beneficence  ?  Do  you  think  that  the  re- 
lation of  the  sexes  is  all  settled,  once  for  all,  and  that  the  whole  form 
and  structure  of  the  household,  and  all  the  elements  of  wise  and  vii'tu- 
ous  living  are  found  out,  and  that  the  law  of  purity  and  love  is  already 
exemplified,  and  that  the  world  is  so  nearly  perfect  that  it  only  needs  a 
little  rubbing  and  polishing  before  it  will  do? 

Every  thirty  years  a  generation  die.  And  what  a  host  of  men  do 
pour  into  the  eternal  world  in  that  period !  Do  they  go  infernal 
or  angelic  ?  What  is  the  condition  of  those  multitudes  that  we  are 
continually  sending  to  the  other  world  ? 

Oh  my  soul !  when  I  tliink  what  man  is,  and  is  to  be,  then  it  is  that 
infidelity  tempts  me  most.  Then  it  is  that  I  most  have  to  say,  "  Get 
thee  behind  me,  Satan."  If  God  is  Faiher,  and  he  feejs  as  I  feel  as 
father,  then  why  has  he  lingered  so  long?  Does  God  never  weep 
when  the  whole  creation  gromis  and  travails  in  pain  until  now? 
Does  God  sit  happy?  Is  there  peace  in  heaven?  Why  is  darkness 
yet  upon  the  globe  ?  Why  are  men  so  coarse  ?  Why  are  they  slow 
to  understand  even  what  religion  is?  Why  do  we  idolize  everything 
but  love,  and  then  tread  that  so  ruthlessly  under  foot  ?  Yet,  "I  know 
that  my  Redeemer  liveth,"  and  that  this  divine  spirit  of  love  never 
came  of  man's  invention,  nor  from  any  physical  source,  but  from  God. 
It  is  the  inbreathing  of  the  other  life.  And  I  do  know  that  there  is  a 
spuit  at  work  which,  though  it  lingers,  will  at  last  bring  in  summer, 
and  that  the  whole  earth  shall  see  the  salvation  of  the  Lord,  and  that 
gentleness,  and  mercy,  and  goodness,  shall,  with  justice  and  truth  and 
righteousness,  rule  the  eaith.     Even  so,  Lord  Jesus  I  come  quickly. 


190  TEE  TRUE  RELIGION. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

O  Lord  our  God  !  the  whole  earth  doth  wait  for  thy  coming.  Through 
ages  thy  servants  have  been  praying,  Let  thy  kingdom  come.  Why  doth  it 
tarry  ?  Why  is  it  yet  delaying  ?  Knowledge  is  running  to  and  fro.  Men  in 
every  part  of  the  earth  are  awaking.  And  why  is  there  not  sent  abroad  the 
spirit  of  love,  and  concord,  and  kindness  ?  Thou,  the  merciful,  the  forgiv- 
ing, the  soul-!  ejoicing  Saviour,  where  art  thou  ?  There  is  power  in  the  earth, 
and  men  and  iiations  are  dashed  one  against  another-, but  where  art  thou, 
the  Merciful  ?  There  is  wisdom  in  the  earth,  and  men  are  building  up  the 
outward  face  of  things;  they  are  covering  the  sea  and  land  with  the  trophies 
of  their  skill  and  power;  they  are  developing  nations  in  refinement;  and 
they  are  multiplying  conveniences  around  about  them — they  are  living  as 
better  animals  than  ever;  but  wliere  is  thy  Spirit  ?  Where  is  that  unity  of 
kindness  that  makes  one  love  another  as  himself?  Where  art  thou,  O  loving 
Saviour  ?  who,  rather  than  give  sutfering,  didst  suffer ;  who,  rather  than 
smite  unto  death,  didst  thyself  die  ;  who  didst  give  thy  own  loving  life,  and 
lay  it  down,  and  take  it  again,  and  dost  wear  it,  now,  forever,  for  benefi- 
cence in  sympathy  and  love  ?  We  beseech  of  thee  that  we  may  see  the  signs 
of  this  thy  second  coming.  Having  come  once  to  reveal,  to  teach,  to  in- 
spire, come  now  to  victory,  we  beseech  of  thee.  Let  thy  heart-beat  be 
stronger  than  all  the  forces  of  this  world ;  and  let  thy  blood  become  the 
blood  of  kindred  shed  for  the  sins  of  the  world.  At  last  may  it  bring  into 
blood-kinship  all  the  nations  of  the  globe,  by  a  living  blood,  an  atonement 
of  love,  an  unquenchable  power,  that  shall  consume  selfishness,  and  teach 
men  to  live  by  their  higher  nature.  Lord,  when  wilt  thou  come  to  deliver 
the  captives  ?  They  are  many.  There  are  many  that  groan  beneath  thrones, 
and  under  chains,  and  in  dungeons ;  but  more  are  there  that  groan  beneath 
the  weight  of  that  sin  and  that  captivity  of  the  flesh  which  prevail  so  widely 
in  all  the  earth.  When  wilt  thou  rescue  man,  and  give  him  birth  out  of  the 
flesh  and  into  the  spirit  ?  Grant,  we  beceech  of  thee,  that  that  sacred,  secret, 
all-cleansing  fire  may  come  forth  from  thee,  and  that  we  may  behold  men, 
indeed  new  creatures  in  Christ  Jesus,  walking  forth  in  the  fragrance  of 
divine  love,  and  full  of  the  beauty  of  thine  own  heavenly  nature,  carrying 
not  alone  the  letter,  but  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  everywhither. 

We  beseech  thee  to  forgive  our  sins  of  selfishness,  and  self-seeking,  and 
self-indulgence,  and  heedlessness.  Forgive  us  all  that  has  made  us  unlike 
thee.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  inspire  us  truly  with  more  than  penticos- 
tal  favor,  that  we  may  go  forth  bearing  the  sacred  message,  and  the  sacred 
spirit  of  the  Master,  everywhere.  We  pray  for  all  classes  and  conditions  of 
men.  We  pray  that  all  the  sufferings  and  self-denials,  that  all  the  turmoil 
and  care  of  life,  may  work  for  the  spiritual  emancipation  of  those  who  are 
exercised  thereby.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  more  and  more 
that  every  one  may  live,  not  by  the  sight  nor  for  the  senses,  but  by  faith  and 
for  the  Spirit. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  comfort  all  those  that  are  gathered  together 
this  morning,  mourners  in  the  midst  of  this  joyful  assembly,  with  sad  mem-i 
cries  going  back  evermore  to  their  trouble  and  sorrow.  May  they  see] 
through  their  tears,  as  Mary  did.  May  they  understand  thee,  speaking  to  J 
them  and  comforting  them. 

And  grant  to  be  near  to  all  that  have  come  up  this  morning  conscious  of  I 
weakness,  and  seeking  to  be  strengthened  to-day  in  the  inner  man.     Grant] 
that  their  faith  and  hope  may  be  revived,  and  that  they  may  feel,  in  the  i 
presence  of  their  God,  that  they  have  been  crowned  to-day.    And  may  they 
go  forth  bearing  a  sceptre  of  power  before  which  temptations  shall  yield  and 
depart. 

Bless  all  those  who  are  strangers  in  our  midst.  And  if  they  are  lonely, 
and  seem  solitary  in  the  midst  of  multitudes,  and  almost  desponding  in  the 


I 


THE  TRUE  RELIGION.  191 

errands  of  life,  still  grant  that  they  may  look  to  their  Father's  God,  and 
pluck  up  courage  and  patience  to  await  the  opening  of  thine  opportunity. 
And  may  none  find  their  faith  failing  them.  May  those  that  watch,  and 
those  that  wait,  and  those  that  weep,  and  those  that  pant  beneath  burdens 
and  those  that  cry  out  and  have  no  answer,  and  those  that  in  darkness  lift 
up  hands  unto  thee,  and  do  not  feel  thy  touch — may  all  of  them,  still  have 
faith  to  wait.  For  thou  shalt  appear  unto  every  one  that  waits  patiently  for 
thee. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord  our  God !  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  labors  of 
this  congregation.  May  the  trutli  be  a  living  truth,  here,  cleansing  not  only 
but  comtbrting,  enlightening,  rejoicing.  And  we  pray  thy  blessing  to  rest 
upon  the  officers  and  teachers  of  our  Sunday-schools,  and  upon  all  the  classes. 
May  the  young  be  brought  up  in  the  fear  of  God,  and  early  enter  into  the 
sacred  life  of  Christian  love.  And  we  pray  that  those  who  go  out  every 
Sabbath  day  into  the  streets,  into  the  highways,  into  the  jails  and  hospitals, 
to  preach  the  Gospel,  to  comfort  those  that  are  sick,  to  cheer  and  encourage 
reformation  in  these  that  are  out  of  the  way,  may  themselves  have  the  spirit 
of  the  living  God,  and  be  clothed  with  the  power  which  is  from  on  hio-h. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  we  may  not  be  made  inditferent  by  our  blessings 
sitting  together  in  heavenly  places,  and  rejoicing  in  all  the  privileges  of  the 
sons  of  God.  May  we  not  forget,  nor  be  slow  to  succor,  those  that  are  with- 
out these  privileges,  or  that  care  for  none  of  them.  May  our  hearts  be  mer- 
ciful in  proportion  as  we  are  blessed  of  God. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  sanctify  us  by  tbe  experience  of  life. 
Grant  thy  divine  Spirit,  that  shall  not  only  guide,  but  cheer  and  sanctify. 
And  grant  that  so  long  as  we  live  we  may  walk  in  fellowship  of  the  saints 
in  the  conimimioa  of  the    Spirit,  and  in  the  hope  of  everlasting  life. 

Look  upon  all  the  earth.  Behold  the  nations  that  sit  desolate  and  in 
darkness.  Behold  all  that  are  struggling  and  seeking  to  emancipate  them- 
selves from  despotism.  Behold  all  those  nations  that  are  jealously  guarding 
the  privileges  of  the  few,  and  treading  upon  the  rights  of  the  many.  Lord 
we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  appear  the  Vindicator,  not  in  wrath,  not 
in  fear,  not  in  blood.  Come  with  persuasion.  Come  with  the  transformino- 
summer  of  love.  Come  and  bring  men  together  in  the  bonds  of  sacred 
fellowship.  Teach  men  to  overcome  evil  with  good.  By  the  might  of  thine 
heart,  and  not  by  the  terror  of  thine  hand,  rule  over  all  the  earth,  as  thou 
dost  rule  in  heaven.  And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son  and 
Spuit. — Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 


Our  Heavenly  Father,  we  thank  thee  for  the  manifestation  of  thy  Son. 
In  the  dark  night,  how  sweet  and  fair  shines  that  Star  of  Bethlehem  through 
the  troubled  cloudy  sky,  breaking  apart,  at  times,  to  let  its  light  over  the 
sea,  storm-tossed.  How  bright  is  the  truth  of  loving  which  thou  hast  made 
possible  to  our  understanding  I  We  have  felt  some  breaths  of  the  same 
spirit,  and  there  are  days  and  hours  in  which  we  rise  up  into  the  tranquility 
and  peacefulness  of  that  utter  love  to  God  and  to  men,  and  in  darkness  and 
under  the  domination  of  evil  feelings  we  fall  away,  and  forget  everythin"- 
but  to  doubt.  O  Lord  !  we  are  as  thy  servant  of  old,  that  w^ould  walk  with 
thee  upon  tlie  sea,  but  sank  at  each  step.  Pluck  us  by  the  hand.  Bring  us 
into  the  ship  indeed. 

Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  we  may  live  more  and  more  in  the  spirit  of 
sonship.  More  and  more  may  we,  by  the  power  of  true  love,  labor  for  the 
upbuilding  of  thy  cause,  and  rejoice  eYei7where  to  see  men  happier.    And 


192  THE  TRUE  RELIGION. 

with  every  word,  and  every  look,  and  every  self-denial,  may  we  seek  to  in- 
crease the  sum  of  joy  in  the  world.  Oh  !  how  many  are  making  misery,  and 
making  men  ciy!  May  we  be  among  those  who  shall  make  them  smile. 
May  we  seek  to  make  the  heart  happier.  May  we  seek  to  rub  away  the 
crease  that  sorrow  and  care  have  put  upon  the  brow.  Grant  that  we  may 
make  the  heart  rich.  And  so  may  we  live  and  labor,  until  thou  hast  need  of 
us  above.  And  then  solve  all  mysteries.  Then,  in  the  one  dying,  give  us 
knowledge  and  life,  and  bring  us  where  all  shall  know  even  as  we  are  known. 
And  to  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  spirit,  shall  be  praises  everlasting, — 
Aineti. 


XI. 

The  Ideal  of  Christian  Experience. 


INVOCATION. 


May  22,  1870. 
"TTTILT  thou  loolc  iTpou  tis  gjaclonsly,  our  Father,  and  poiir  in  upon 
V  V  our  waitiii,!^  souls  the  consciousness  of  thy  presence.  Reveal  thyself 
as  thou  hast  promised  that  thou  wilt  unto  thy  people ;  and  grant,  if  we  may 
not  have  the  full  disclosure  and  the  glory  of  thy  face,  that  we  may,  accord- 
ing to  the  grace  in  which  we  are  enlightened  and  developed,  have  some 
intimation  that  shall  give  us  the  thought  of  thee,  and  the  belief  that  thou 
art  thinking  of  us,  that  we  may  be  delivered  from  all  doubt,  that  we  may  be 
able  to  turn  away  from  all  things  that  hinder  or  soil  the  joy  and  the  purity 
of  this  our  worship.  Reveal  thy  word,  and  all  its  hidden  truths;  and  lift  us 
by  the  power  of  thine  own  grace,  and  by  thine  own  love,  up  into  that  blessed- 
ness of  communion  in  which  the  heart  shall  spontaneously  call  thee  Father, 
and  receive  thy  welcome.  And  so  may  the  service  of  the  morning,  and  of 
the  evening,  and  of  all  the  hours  of  the  day,  be  acceptable  ui  thy  sight,  O 
Lord  our  strength  and  our  Redeemer!    Amen. 

XL 


THE   IDEAL 


OF 


CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE. 


"Judas  saith  unto  him,  not  Iscariot,  Lord,  how  is  it  that  thou  wilt  man- 
ifest thyself  unto  us,  and  not  unto  the  world  ?  Jesus  answered  and  said 
unto  him,  If  a  man  love  me,  he  will  keep  my  words;  and  my  Father  will 
love  him,  and  we  will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him." — ■ 
Jno.  XIV.  23.  23. 


No  susceptible  nature  ever  reads  these  marvelous  chapters  contain- 
ing Christ's  love-talk,  in  the  seclusion  of  home,  and  in  the  last  hours 
that  he  was  spending  peacefully  with  his  disciples,  without  feeling  that 
they  are  full  of  meanings  which  ordinary  life  furnishes  no  clue  for. 
Barren  or  shallow  natures  are  apt  to  feel  that  they  are  extravagant ; 
that  they  are  a  kind  of  spiritual  sentimentalism.  Venerating  natures, 
that  yet  do  not  reach  up  to  the  level  of  these  discourses,  are  wont  to 
think  that  they  are  mystical  and  marvelous.  But  great  hearts  have  al- 
ways felt  that  they  were  the  unfolding  of  a  life  of  which  they  had  had 
glimpses,  and  toward  which  they  were  striving,  but  which  had  no  per- 
fect realization  in  their  experience,  and  probably  none  in  the  experi- 
ence of  any  except  the  Master  himself 

In  the  fourteenth,  fifteenth,  sixteenth,  and  perhaps  seventeenth 
chapters  of  John,  there  is  a  more  perfect  dwelling  upon  the  ideal  Chris- 
tian character  and  life  than  in  any  equal  compass  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment. And  according  to  the  teaching  of  our  JNIaster,  here  and  else- 
where, the  perfect  Christian  life  has  the  following  gi-eat  constituent 
elements. 

1.  It  is  a  life  of  vital  unity  with  God.  It  may  or  may  not  be  con- 
sciously in  unity  with  him ;  but  the  teaching  is,  that,  as  the  body 
''derives  its  stimulation,  its  food  and  force,  from  its  contact  with  the 
■material  globe,  and  from  its  obedience  to  physical  laws,  so  that  which 
Christianity  includes  derives  its  vitality  from  its  connection  with  the 
invisible  God.     Its  force  and  its  food  are  from  no  lower  source. 

In  our  text  Christ  promises,  not  obscurely,  to  his  disciples,  that  if 

Sunday  Morning,  May  22,  1870.  Lesson  :  Jno.  XIV,  8-31.  IItmns  (Plymouth  Colleotion}  : 
Nob.  912,  898,  1257. 


194  THE  IDEAL  OF  CHRISTIAN  EXPEBIENCE. 

they  love  him,  and  if  they  will  but  open  the  door  through  which  alone 
God  can  enter  into  the  human  soul,  the  great  golden  gate  of  love,  he 
will  come  in,  and  the  Father  with  him,  and  that  there  shall  be  a  love- 
life  begun. 

2.  It  is  declared,  as  an  element  of  the  typical  Christian  experience, 
that  it  shall  be  a  life  of  perfect  peace. 

"  Peace  I  leave  with  you,  my  peace  I  give  unto  you;  not  as  the  world 
givetli,  give  I  unto  you.  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled,  neither  let  it  be 
afraid." 

And  again,  elsewhere,  we  find  the  apostles  interpreting  this : 
"  The  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  understanding  [or  analysis],  shall 
keep  your  hearts  and  minds  through  Christ  Jesus." 

Here  is  what  the  apostles  spoke  out  of  their  own  experience — an 
experimental  interpretation  of  this  promise  of  the  Master.  The  "  fruit 
of  the  Spirit"  is  said  to  be  "  love,  peace,  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Here,  then,  are  two  great  elements — first,  a  unity  with  God  thi'ough 
love ;  and  second,  the  efiect,  which  is  a  dominating  peace. 

3.  This  state  is  declared  to  be  one  which  delivers  the  soul  from  the 
power  and  the  domination  of  sin.  When  the  soul  has  risen  into  this 
state  of  communion  with  God,  and  has  entered  upon  this  deep  spiritual 
tranquility,  it  is  declared  to  be  sinless — a  matter  which  has  perplexed, 
and  annoyed  beyond  measure,  interpreters  and  experimental  Christians. 
Such  language  as  this,  in  the  fifth  chapter  of  the  first  epistle  of  John, 
has  been  very  much  a  matter  of  debate : 

"  For  whatsoever  is  born  of  God  overcometh  the  world  ;  and  this  is  the 
victory  that  overcometh  the  world,  even  our  faith."  "  We  know  that  who- 
soever is  born  of  God  sinneth  not ;  but  he  that  is  begotten  of  God  keepeth 
himself,  and  that  wicked  one  toucheth  him  not," 

This  is  another  peculiarity  of  the  Christian  state,  par  excelle^ice, 
that  it  is  sinless;  that  men  have  ministered  to  them,  not  simply  "joy 
in  the  Holy  Ghost,"  not  simply  Christ's  "  peace  which  passeth  all  un- 
derstanding," but  the  power  to  "  overcome  the  world." 

4.  It  is  taught  us,  unequivocally,  that  in  the  typical  Christian  state 
of  mind,  there  are  forces  developed  of  which,  in  our  lower  natural  state, 
we  have  no  hint,  no  warning ;  forces  that  are  not  ordinarily  developed, 
and  that  cannot  be  developed  by  any  secular  and  purely  wordly  educa- 
tion ;  forces  which  we  are  accustomed  to  call  mu-aculous. 

If  you  will  turn  to  Matthew's  Gospel,  you  will  find  Christ  enunciat- 
ing this  in  the  most  distinct  manner,  in  the  seventeenth  chapter.  The 
disciples  had  asked  him  why  they  could  not  cast  out  these  evil  spu-its. 

"  And  Jesus  said  unto  them.  Because  of  your  unbelief." 

It  was  because  they  were  living  on  a  lower  plane  where  the  power 
to  do  such  things  was  not  known. 

"  For  verily  I  say  unto  you,  if  ye  have  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard  seed, 
ye  shall  say  unto  this  mountain,  Remove  hence  to  yonder  place,  and  it  shall 
remove ;  and  nothing  sliall  be  impossible  to  you." 


TEE  IDEAL  OF  CnRISTIAN  EXPEEIENCE.  195 

Lest  it  may  be  thought  that  this  was  a  transient  and  metaphorical 
teaching,  listen  again  to  a  declaration  in  the  same  book,  and  the 
twenty-first  chapter,  where  the  fig-tree  was  cursed,  and  it  withered 
away,  and  the  disciples,  remarking  it,  were  astonished. 

"  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  them,  Verily  I  say  unto  you.  If  ye  have 
faith,  and  doubt  not,  ye  shall  not  only  do  this  which  is  done  to  the  tig-tree,' 
but  also,  if  ye  shall  say  unto  this  mountain.  Be  thou  removed,  and  be  thou 
cast  into  the  sea,  it  shall  be  done.  And  all  things  whatsoever  ye  shall  ask 
in  prayer,  believing,  ye  shall  receive."  ' 

Now,  that  this  was  not  understood  by  the  apostles  themselves  as 
being  a  mere  metaphorical  or  figurative  promise,  is  shown  in  the  direc- ' 
tions  Avhich  are  given  by  them  for  the  healing  of  sickness,  by  prayer  of  i 
faith  and  by  their  own  power  of  working  mu'aculous  cures,  which  theyj 
held  in  reliance  upon,  or  in  explicit  faith  of,  this  declaration  of  the 
Master. 

Here,  then,  are  the  four  great  elements  which  constitute  Christian  \ 
experience.     It  is  a  life  of  unity  with  God,  developing  the  supreme ' 
power  of  love  in  the  soul.     It  is  a  life  in  which  there  is  such  an  influ-j 
ence  exerted  upon  the  mind  that  all  the  soul  is  perfectly  harmonized,  i 
and  yet  perfectly  alive,  so  that  it  rises  into  a  "  peace  which  passeth  all ! 
understanding."     It  is  a  state  in  which  such  is  the  power  of  this  divine  i 
influence  of  joy  and  peace  in  love  that  the  man  has  control  over  him-, 
Belf  and  over  his  circumstances,  and  sins  not.     It  is  a  life  and  experi-! 
ence  which  goes  still  further  than  this.     When  a  man  has  been  lifted 
up  into  this  state  of  feeling,  he  is  existing  upon  a  plane  in  which  the 
relation  of  his  mind  to  matter  itself  is  changed,  and  new  forces  and 
new  possibilities  are  involved.     And  that  which  a  man  cannot  be  and 
cannot  do  when  he  is  living  on  the  lower  plane,  he  finds,  strangely, 
that  he  is  able  to  be  and  to  do  when  he  has  risen  into  this  higher  spir- 
itual condition.     He  has  power  over  natural  law.     We  have  power 
now  over  natural  law  ;  but  it  is  in  a  lower  way.     It  is  because  I  have 
power  over  natural  law  that  I  am  a  husbandman,  and  that  you  are  a 
mechanic.     It  is  the  knowledge  of  natural  law,  and  the  knowledge  of 
how  to  use  it,  that  means  skill  and  ability  among  men. 

The  Christian  development,  the  typical  Christian  experience,  it  is 
declared,  carries  this  power  over  nature  still  higher.  And  there  are 
forces  in  the  human  soul  that  are  developed  at  last  which  give  a  man 
a  more  permanent  control  over  nature  than  is  possible  to  the  common 
state. 

Here,  then,  Christian  experience  has  the  divine  presence  and  a  joy- 
ful companionship.  It  lifts  up  the  soul  above  the  agitations  of  human 
life  and  heart-experience  ;  it  frees  it  from  the  power  of  all  ordinaiy 
temptations  that  assail  it;  and  it  develops  a  simple  force  which  gives 
law  and  knowledge  and  power  over  the  physical  world,  to  an  extent 


196  THE  IDEAL  OF  CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE. 

which  is  not  vouchsafed  to  ordinary  conditions  of  life.     Such  is  the 
Christianity  of  the  New  Testament. 

I  remark,  in  view  of  the  forgoing  exposition, 

First,  that  this  Christianity,  or  this  development  of  Christian  expe- 
rience, is  but  the  unfolding  of  the  elements  which  belong  to  every 
man's  nature.  It  is  the  unfolding  of  latent  forces  that  belong  by  con- 
stitution to  the  nature  of  the  human  mind.  Every  human  soul  has 
this  latent  power. 

It  is  not,  then,  a  special  superaddition  in  the  form  of  a  technical  re- 
sult in  Christianity.  Christ,  who  was  the  sublimest  interpreter,  the 
grandest  natural  philosopher,  that  ever  lived,  unfolded  to  us  the  knowl- 
edge of  this  hidden  life  of  the  soul,  and  taught  the  method  of  disclo- 
sure, and  that  it  is  the  birthright  of  man  to  come  to  this  higher  range 
:of  development,  of  power  and  of  experience. 

It  is  by  spiritual  agencies,  and  not  by  physical  appliances,  that  it 
is  to  be  achieved.  It  is  by  love,  and  not  by  the  passions  and  appetites; 
jit  is  by  the  exercise  of  the  supersensuous  faculties,  and  not  the  physi- 
'  cal  senses  ;  it  is  not  by  science,  but  by  faith,  that  we  are  to  come  into 
this  higher  state.  But  all  men  have  in  them  the  roots  of  that  which 
may  be,  by  the  divine  Spiiit,  developed  into  this  higher  fruit  of  Chris- 
tian experience. 

Now,  of  this  view,  which  I  have  not  attempted  to  modify,  but  which 
I  have  made  strong  on  purpose,  that  it  may  strike  you  as  something 
quite  transcendental — as  something  far  above  the  ordinary  actual  expe- 
riences of  human  life — of  this  view,  you  will  say,  "  Does  it  not  rule  out 
the  experience  of  Christendom,  generically  considered  ?  If  that  which 
you  have  declared  to  be  the  true  Christian  experience,  is  the  true  Chris- 
tian experience,  are  there  any  Christians  ?  Are  there  churches  full  of 
them  ■?  Are  there  houses  full  of  them  ?  And  does  it  not  strike  des- 
paii-  to  souls  that  are  conscious  of  their  inability  to  reach  any  such  view, 
and  to  make  any  such  attainment  as  this  ?" 

Those  are  fan*  questions,  and  I  will  answer  them  fairly.  The  an- 
swer depends  upon  whether  this  Christian  character  which  I  have  pre- 
sented to  you  as  the  true  experience  of  Christian  life  is  the  average  ex- 
perience, and  the  condition  of  all  hope  and  aU  acceptance  with  God  ; 
or  whether  it  is  the  typical,  the  ideal  character,  or  pictorial  view  of  that 
which  is  possible,  and  to  which  the  Master  is  bringing  his  disciples.  It 
will  depend  upon  whether  it  is  understood  that,  in  practice,  this  is  an 
experience  that  is  reached  gradually,  by  gradations,  or  whether  it  is 
understood  to  be  something  which  eveiy  man  has  when  he  is  convert- 
ed. It  depends  upon  whether  it  is  regarded  as  a  state  which  men  come^ 
into  at  once,  or  whether  it  is  that  teleologic  or  final  condition  towai'd 


I 


TEE  IDEAL  OF  CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  197 


which  eveiy  man  is  aiming,  and  which  he  hopes  to  reach  either  here  or 
hereafter. 

This  can  be  settled,  I  think,  in  no  way  so  safely  as  by  watchino- 
Christ's  own  practice  in  gathering  his  followers.  He  certainly  taught 
in  such  glowing  words,  and  repeated  his  teaching  in  such  a  variety  of 
ways,  that  no  man  can  avoid  comprehending  it  without  doing  violence 
to  the  spirit  and  letter  of  the  New  Testament. 

m  He  taught  the  i-eality  and  the  possibility  of  this  high  state  of  soul 
which  I  have  been  delineating  to  you ;  and  he  taught  that  this  was 
preeminently  the  Cluistian  state — the  ultimate  object  of  aspiration 
among  men.  To  be  in  communion  with  God ;  to  be  perfected  in  love ; 
to  be  in  so  high  a  range  of  being,  in  consequence,  as  to  have  absolute 
self-harmony  and  tranquility  and  perfect  peace ;  to  be  by  this  exalta- 
tion lifted  above  the  ordinary  annoyances  and  temptations  and  sins  of 
humanity  ;  to  have  the  power  of  thinking  things,  knowing  things,  and 
doing  things  which  do  not  belong  to  lower  states  of  experience — this, 
if  anything,  was  taught  in  the  New  Testament,  by  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ. 

But  then,  we  find  that  he  did  not  make  it  the  test  of  discipleship 
that  men  should  be  in  that  state.  While  he  taught  it,  and  while 
he  held  it  up  as  a  picture,  he  did  not  say  that  no  one  was  a  Christian 

!  artist  who  could  not  paint  in  himself  just  such  a  picture.  He,  on  the 
other  hand,  showed  that  there  were  gradations  allowed,  practically,  in 
admitting  men  to  the  fellowship  and  life  of  the  Christian. 

For,  there  were  some  that  would  have  said  to  him  then,  as  there 
are  multitudes  that  would  say  to  him  now,  "  We  cannot  rise  to  this 

,  conscious  personal  communion.  We  earnestly  desii'e  to  love  God,  but 
at  best  the  conception  of  God  is  very  vague  and  fugitive,  and  we  can- 

I  not  love  God  as  we  do  father  and  mother."     And,  out  of  condescension 

to  that,  Christ  says, 

"  He  that  hath  my  commandments,  and  keepeth  them,  he  it  is  that  loveth 
me." 

It  is  as  if  he  had  said,  "  Can  you  not  yet  rise  into  that  emotive  and 
conscious  glow  of  love  toward  the  unseen  and  invisible  Father  ?  Veiy 
well,  then,  take  the  next  step  to  it.  Here  are  his  commandments.  Put 
}  ourself  in  the  line  of  the  divine  love,  and  keep  these  commandments, 
and  Ave  will  accept  that."  And  so  he  went  down  to  their  infirmity  iv 
that  direction. 

But  there  were  a  great  many  who  could  not  even  live  a  life  of  obe- 
dience, in  distinction  from  a  life  of  emotion.  That  was  too  hard  for 
the  poor  and  the  miserable.  And  he  says  to  them,  "  Well,  then,  fol- 
low me,  and  learn  what  you  can.  Become  scholars  of  mine,  and  I 
will  teach  you,  from  day  to  day,  what  to  do.  If  you  ars  able,  love  and 
tiiumph.     Oi*,  if  you  cannot  do  that,  obey  and  gi-ow.     Or,  if  you  can- 


198  THE  IDEAL  OF  CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE. 

not  even  comprehend  the  precepts,  then  follow  me,  and  I  will  day  by 
day  teach  them  to  you."  In  other  w^ords,  "  I  will  accept  a  desire  to 
learn,  a  willingness  to  be  taught,  and  compliance  as  fast  as  possible 
with  what  you  are  taught." 

But  there  were  some,  apparently,  even  lower  than  that.  One  of 
the  most  marvelous  passages  in  this  regard,  in  the  New  Testament,  is 
that  which  is  contained  in  the  tenth  chapter  of  Matthew,  where  Christ 
says, 

"  He  that  receiveth  you  receiveth  me ;  and  he  that  receiveth  me,  receiv- 
eth  him  that  sent  me."  "  And  whosoever  shall  give  to  drink  unto  one  of 
these  little  ones,  a  cup  of  cold  water  only,  in  the  name  of  a  disciple" — 

What !  if  he  does  not  understand  anything  about  decrees,  fore-or- 
dination, election  or  repi'obation ;  if  he  does  not  understand  anything 
about  the  Trinity  ;  if  he  does  not  understand  anything  about  the  atone- 
ment, or  the  ground  and  reasons  of  it ;  if  he  does  not  understand  any- 
thing about  the  church,  or  about  holy  days  and  holy  practices  ?  Yes ; 
here  it  stands,  without  a  single  mitigation. 

"  Whosoever  shall  give  to  drink  unto  one  of  these  little  ones  a  cup  of 
cold  water  only,  in  the  name  of  a  disciple,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  he  shall 
in  no  wise  lose  his  reward." 

We  find,  then,  on  the  one  side,  the  wonderful  disclosure  of  the 
possible  experience  of  the  soul.  And  our  Master  says,  "  This  is  that 
to  which  you  are  to  come."  And  we  find,  on  the  other  side,  the  same 
Master  saying  to  men,  "  If,  practically,  you  cannot  do  any  more  in 
this  direction  than  to  have  good  wishes  toward  those  who  are  living  a 
Christian  life,  and  you  will  help  them,  if  it  be  but  to  give  them  a  cup 
of  cold  water,  you  shall  not  lose  your  reward." 

The  ideal  is  exalted,  and  immense ;  but  the  practical  adminis- 
tration under  that  ideal  is  full  of  gradations — for  I  have  not  given 
you  half,  or  one  in  twenty,  of  the  gradations  that  fall  out  in  the  actual 
administration  of  this  ideal  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  himself,  going 
down  almost  to  zero,  and  amounting  to  this :  "If  there  is  in  mankind 
one  person  who  is  willing  to  follow  me,  and  learn,  and  learn  how  to 
practice  what  he  learns,  that  willingness  shall  be  sufficient.  He  shall 
be  called  one  of  mine.  He  shall  be  a  disciple."  Christ  did  not  de- 
mand the  full  type  of  Christian  experience  as  a  condition  of  accept- 
ance. He  set  the  ideal  before  men ;  and  then  he  accepted,  or  promised 
to  accept,  every  one  who  would  sincerely  strive  after  that  ideal,  no 
matter  at  what  point  he  stood,  fi-om  the  highest  endowment  of  genius 
down  to  the  very  child  himself.  Every  man  who,  looking  toward  this 
ideal  of  purity  and  peace  and  divinity  in  his  soul,  says,  "  I  will  follow 
after  it ;"  every  man  who,  pointing  toward  this  ideal,  says,  "  I  accept 
this  life,  and  I  will  try  to  realize  it" — every  such  man,  no  matter  how 
slowly  he  advances,  no  matter  how  imperfectly  he  lives,  has  the  sym- 
pathy of  Christ.     Of  all  strivers  in  that  direction,  he  says,  "They 


THE  IDEAL  OF  CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCB.  199 

shall  be  mine."  He  calls  them  his  scholars.  And  those  that  go  to 
school,  or  are  willing  to  go  to  school  to  Christ,  to  learn  by  what  steps 
they  may  be  good ;  those  that  are  willing  to  go  to  this  university  of 
experience ;  those  that  are  seeking  for  this  graduating  power  of  Christi- 
anity, however  limited  may  be  their  attainments,  their  knowledge, 
theu'  victories,  are  pupils.  K  a  man  has  gone  into  that  school  sin- 
cerely to  learn,  and  is  willing  to  practice  what  he  learns,  he  is  accepted 
of  God. 

Let  me  now  make  the  applications. 

In  the  first  place,  to  go  back  to  a  figure  that  I  have  already  intro- 
duced, Christ  opens  a  school.  He  marks  out  the  gi'ades.  He  pic- 
tures the  hifjhest  results  that  are  attainable  in  a  Christian — though 
they  are  not  given  in  full  disclosure.  He  also  shows  that  while  this  is 
the  ideal  after  which  all  scholars  are  to  strive,  the  lowest  form,  in  his 
view,  is  as  really  in  the  school  as  the  highest  form. 

When  a  young  person  begins  a  course  of  liberal  education,  he  says 
to  himself,  "I  propose  to  be  admitted."  He  is  to  become,  it  may  be, 
an  artist ;  or,  it  may  be,  an  engineer ;  or,  it  may  be,  a  lawyer ;  or,  it 
may  be,  a  preacher ;  but  he  says,  "  My  first  step  is  to  learn  to  read." 

Some  strong-brained  boy,  born  in  the  woods  out  West,  and  brought 
up  without  the  slightest  learning ;  some  Abraham  Lincoln  of  a  boy, 
lies  on  his  belly  by  a  pine  knot,  marking  from  a  book,  with  a  rude 
stick,  letters  in  the  sand,  and  saying,  "  I  will  learn ;"  and  there  goes 
by  a  Yale  or  Cambridge  student  that  has  just  graduated,  and  is  fuller 
of  knowledge  than  he  ever  will  be  again ;  and  people  say  to  him, 
"  What  are  you  f  "  A  scholar,  sir,"  he  replies.  *'  Oh,  yes,"  they  say ; 
"  and  we  have  scholars  here,  too."  And  they  open  a  door  and  point  to 
that  boy  of  the. blacksmith's  forge,  who  has  raked  the  embers  together 
to  study  by  ;  or  to  the  boy  of  the  cabin,  who  is  lying  by  a  pine  knot, 
uncouth,  awkward,  rude  in  his  dress,  but  with  a  much-fingered  book, 
studying  the  profound  mystery  of  addition  or  subtraction,  or  tiying 
to  spell  letters  into  a  word, — and  say,  "  There  is  a  scholar."  "  You 
call  that  a  scholar,  do  youf     "We  do.    Do  not  you  call  him  one?" 

Wlien  I  see  old  Cceur  de  Lion  in  the  picture  of  a  battle,  when  I 
see  the  gigantic  form  that  is  shown  in  athletes  among  men,  how 
strange  it  seems  to  me  to  be  carried  into  a  nursery  and  have  the  blan- 
ket tlirown  off  from  the  cradle,  and  see  lying  there  a  little  six-months- 
old  boy,  that  cries  for  milk,  and  that  only,  and  cannot  help  himself — 
and  then  to  hear  such  a  helpless,  dimiiuitive  creature  called  a  man  I 
And  compared  with  tliis  giant  in  the  field,  it  is  a  pretty  poor  beginning 
for  a  man.  But  it  is  the  Lord's  ordinance  that  the  higher  any  creature  , 
goes  in  this  world,  the  further  he  has  to  run  before  he  makes  a  jump. 
Flies,  that  are  very  low,  are  born   perfect  flies  to  start  with,  and 


200  TEE  IDEAL  OF  CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE, 

have  the  full  use  of  themselves  from  the  moment  that  they  are  out  of 
tli6  egg.  And  as  you  rise  in  the  animal  kingdom,  the  longer  the  life, 
the  more  important  the  functions,  the  higher  the  scale  of  being,  the 
longer  the  period  of  development.  And  as  man  is  the  head  of  crea- 
tion, the  furthest  is  he  from  himself  at  the  start,  and  the  longest  has  he 
to  wait  before  he  comes  to  himself. 

It  is  true,  therefore,  that  in  that  cradle  lies  a  man.  But  it  is  all 
folded  up  in  its  case.  There  are  the  rudiments  which  are  to  be 
developed  into  a  man.  The  proudest  artist,  the  noblest  orator,  the 
most  brilliant  warrior,  the  grandest  statesman,  was  no  bigger  than  that 
child  once,  nor  different  from  it.  And  it  is  in  the  power  of  that  child 
to  rise,  circumstances  favoring.  And  it  is  perfectly  proper  to  say  that 
he  is  in  the  line  of  manhood. 

Here  are  the  disclosures  of  Christ  as  to  what  is  possible  in  the 
human  soul.  He  declares  what  religion  is  to  do  for  men.  What  is  it 
to  do  for  them  ?  Is  it  to  give  them  a  few  better  clothes  ?  Is  it  to 
keep  them  from  eating  and  drinking  too  much  ?  Is  it  to  improve  their 
morals  ?  Is  it  to  make  good  bankers  and  merchants  and  nice  citizens 
of  them  ?  Yes  ;  but  these  things  are  only  buttons,  the  trimmings,  as 
it  were.  They  are  njere  incidental  things.  The  great  work  of  religion 
is  soul-building.  That  which  is  meant  is  the  divine  power  which  de- 
scends on  the  soul,  unfolding  its  secret,  latent  capacities,  until  it  rises 
into  possible  comramunion  with  God,  face  to  face ;  until  it  has  transcend- 
ent harmony  and  absolute  peace  which  passes  imderstanding ;  until 
it  is  able  to  tread  under  foot  all  ordinary  sins ;  until  it  is  able  to  speak 
even  as  God  speaks,  as  a  creator,  being  a  son  of  God,  and  the  heu*  of  « 
heaven.  That  which  is  meant  is  such  an  unfolding,  such  a  translation, 
such  a  spiritual  education,  such  a  scope  or  sphere  or  power  as  this. 
And  that  it  is  which  is  held  up  in  the  New  Testament. 

But  Christ  says,  "  I  do  not  demand  that  every  man  who  comes  into 
my  church  shall  be  all  this  at  once,  any  more  than  I  demand  that  a  man 
shall  be  a  man  before  he  has  been  a  babe.  Almost  as  far  back  as  you 
have  a  mind  to,  only  say  that  you  put  yourself  in  the  line  of  growth, 
only  say  that  you  take  these  great  blessings,  and  are  traveling,  and 
learning,  and  going  on  toward  perfection,  and  I  will  take  you  in."  This 
is  the  spuit  of  the  New  Testament,  and  this  is  the  doctrine  of  the] 
ideal  and  the  real,  and  of  the  relation  of  the  practical  in  a  strugglingj 
Christian  life  to  the  realization  of  this  blessed  ideal. 

Here,  too,  you  see  what  has  been  the  confusion  in  men's  minds. 
There  are  many  persons  who  have  supposed  that  they  could  assum^ 
this  ultimate  condition,  this  final  state,  which  men  come  to  through  th^ 
ages  sometimes,  in  rare  cases,  from  individual  development  and  di* 
closui'e  of  being.     Fanatical  natures  have  supposed  that  this  could  be 


TEE  IDEAL  OF  CILRISTIAN  EXPERIEI^CE.  201 

assumed  as  the  gift  of  God  immediately  upon  their  conversion,  and 
have  gone  off  into  fantastic  experiences,  into  strange  nervous  develop- 
ments, which  they  supposed  to  belong  to  this  mystic  disclosure  of 
Christ  in  the  soul. 

It  does  not  invalidate  these  declarations,  that  there  are  so  many 
counterfeits  and  so  many  mistakes  in  respect  to  them.  This  is  that 
condition  toward  which  we  are  to  be  brought.  It  is  the  condition  to- 
ward which  we  ai'e  walking  and  striving.  But  no  man  comes  into 
it  at  first  and  at  once.     We  grow  into  it.     We  unfold  into  it. 

So  there  is  hope  for  every  earnest,   sincere  soul  that  wants  to  be 
one  with  God.     For  any  man  that  is  in  doubt  doctrinally ;  for  any 
man  that  from  the  force  of  education  finds  himself  unable  to  accept  this 
or  that  particular  category  of  doctrine,  or  this  or  that  mode  of  stating 
a  particular  doctrine,  there  is  great  consolation.     People  say  to  me, 
"  Can  a  man  be  a  Christian  and  not  believe  in  this,  that  and  the  other 
thing  f    It  is  very  diflicult  to  say  what  a  man  may  not  lack  and  yet  be 
a  Christian.     When  a  man  is  in  the  perfected  state,  he  will  doubtless 
be  "  armed  and  equipped  as  the  law  directs ; "    but  while  he  is  on 
the  ^\  ay  to  it,  and  striving  after  it,  it  does  not  follow  that  he  must 
be  right  ecclesiastically,  dogmatically,  or  even  practically,  in  any  one 
of  a  hundred  things.     He  may  be  as  full  of  imperfections  as  a  boy 
that  is  beginning  to  write  is  full  of  bad  spelling  and  awkward  letters. 
He  may  become  a  prince  in  literature,  he   may  be  even   an  editor 
some  day ;  and  yet  judging  from  what  his  beginnings  are,  you  would 
say,  "  It  is  impossible  for  him  to  become  anything  ?"     All  these  im- 
perfections are  to  be  corrected.     They  will  correct  themselves.     Bad 
wiiting  corrects  itself,  and  bad  spelling  corrects  itself     Men  get  used 
to  good  spelling.      They  never  learn  it,  exactly.      It  is  an  art,  rather 
than  an  attainment.     And  so  it  is  in  respect  to  spiritual  things.     I  do 
not  care  what  point  you  start  from — whether  from  the  naturalism  of 
Persia,  or  from  the  starting-point  of  truth  and  lies  among  the  Brah- 
mins, or  from  among  the  naturalists  of  scientific  times,  or  from   the 
outer  cu'cle  of  the  Christian  sects — from  among  those   that  ai'e  re- 
motely orthodox,  or  almost  orthodox,  or  quite  orthodox,  or  more  than 
orthodox,   or  super-hyper-orthodox;   no   matter  where  you  start,  the 
fact  is  just  this ;     You  have  human  nature  in  you ;  and  that  human 
natm-e  has  the  seeds  of  this  grand  Christian  development.     And  you 
may  start  where  you  will,  so  that  you  start,  so  that  you  put  yourself 
under  the  diill  of  the  divine  spirit  of  love  and  peace  and  joy  in  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  so  that  you  \vork  having  that  ultimate  object  in  view, 
with  all  your  heart  and  mind   and    soul    and    strength.     These    other 
things  ai'e  not  without  their  validity  and  value  and  effects     but  there 
ai-e  none  of  them  that  ai'e  vital.     So  far  as  they  are  not  biudranees^ 


202  THE  IDEAL  OF  CHRISTIAN  EXPERIEifCE. 

but  helps,  they  come  through  this  power  of  God  which  is  unfolding 
us,  and  bringing  us  to  that  perfect  manhood  which  God  thought  of 
when  he  made  man,  and  which  is  the  ty^^ical  idea  in  his  creation. 

We  see,  secondly,  the  popular  fallacy  in  respect  to  Christians  and 
Christian  life.  Men  suppose  that  when  we  are  born  again  by  the 
Spirit  of  God,  we  are  brought  into  a  perfected  state — a  state  so  much 
more  eminent  than  that  out  of  which  we  came,  that  it  may  be  called  a 
miraculous  translation ;  and  that  instead  of  looking  for  sin  and 
weakness  and  imperfection  in  himself,  the  Christian  ought  never  to  do 
anything  wrong.  A  Christian  Is  one,  certainly,  that  sets  out  heartily 
to  do  what  is  right,  and  means  to  persevere  in  doing  what  is  right ; 
but  I  pray  you,  if  I  start  from  here  to  go  across  the  continent  by  the 
northern  route  to  California  or  the  Columbia  river,  am  I  not  a  pilgrim, 
a  traveler,  bound  to  see  the  Pacific  ocean,  though  I  do  not  travel  in  a 
dh-ect  course  ?  Does  it  follow  that  I  shall  take  a  short  cut?  Does  it 
follow  that  I  shall  go  forward  every  day  %  Does  it  follow  that  I  may 
not  sometimes  sicken  by  the  way,  and  wait  for  weeks  %  Does  it  fol- 
low that  I  may  not  mistake  my  path  and  take  cu-cuitous  courses  ? 
Does  it  follow  that  I  shall  not  be  beguiled  into  a  hunting  or  botani- 
zing expedition  ?  Does  it  follow  that  I  shall  not  be  charmed  with  some 
settlement,  and  persuaded  to  remain  there  for  months  ?  All  these 
things  may  take  place,  and  yet  I  may  not  give  up  my  purpose  of  cross- 
ing the  continent  and  seeing  the  Pacific  shore.  I  may  have  all  these 
aberrations  and  delays,  and  yet  they  may  not  change  the  grand  fact 
that  I  am  on  my  way  to  yonder  distant  coast. 

A  child  means  to  be  educated ;  and  that  purpose  is  not  to  be  in- 
validated by  the  fact  that  his  mother  keeps  him  at  home  very  often  to 
do  house-work,  or  that  she  permits  him  to  go  a  visiting  or  playing,  or 
that  he  plays  truant  (for  some  children — not  good  children,  not  nice 
Sunday-school-book  children,  of  course,  but  some  children — do  play 
truant),  and  forgets  his  books,  and  looks  after  flies,  and  butterflies,  and 
what  not,  and  is  full  of  whims  and  caprices ;  full  of  spmt  to-day,  and 
all  deliquescence  to-moiTow ;  full  of  all  manner  of  infirmities.  He  is 
a  scholar,  and  is  getting  his  education,  notwithstanding  all  these  hin- 
drances. 

And  so  a  Christian  is  Chi-ist's  scholar,  and  is  in  Christ's  school,  and 
his  heart  is  set  on  education,  and  his  purpose  is  to  leam ;  but  oh !  with 
what  lingerings !  with  what  accidents !  with  what  diversions  to  the 
right  and  to  the  left  1  And  yet,  taking  it  year  by  year,  his  eye  is  on 
the  one  object  which  he  has  set  out  to  attain,  and  he  means  that  more 
than  anything  else,  and  is  following  on  after  it. 

Suppose  a  person  says  to  me,  "Is  X.  C.  a  member  of  your  church?" 
and  I,  having  a  great  opinion  of  him,  joyfully  say,  "  Yes  sir — yes." 


TEE  IDEAL  OF  CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  203 

••  Well,  I  thought  so.  He  cheated  me  yesterday."  And  my  reply,  natur- 
ally, to  him,  is,  "  Only  once  ?"  I  would  be  glad  to  compromise  at  that. 
When  I  put  the  spiritual  law  of  God  on  the  interpretation  of  a  man's 
thoughts,  what  is  murder  ?  IIow  many  murders  there  are  committed 
by  good  men !  When  I  judge  a  man  by  the  law,  "  Thou  shalt  love 
thy  neighbor  as  thyself,"  how  much  crime  there  is  that  goes  on  under 
forms  of  law  !  How  much  there  is  of  selfishness  that  goes  on  under  the 
name  of  benevolence  !  How  little  there  is  of  essentially  disinterested 
love,  even  in  good  men  ! 

But  do  you  expect  that  men  who  are  going  to  school  will  never 
make  the  blunders  which  belong  to  education  ?  This  world  is  God's 
school-house,  and  I  am  trying,  as  his  teacher,  to  set  before  you  pre- 
scribed courses  which  you  ought  to  follow ;  and  you  are  mainly  seek- 
ing to  follow  them ;  but  not  without  blunderings  and  stumblings. 
You  are  not  saints,  nor  anywhere  near  saints.  Nobody  is  a  saint  till 
he  is  dead  ;  and  it  is  not  safe  to  call  anybody  one  till  then.  In  this 
life — especially  while  in  the  midst  of  its  strnggles  and  strifes — how 
few  men  there  are  who  can  draw  a  straight  line  to  the  ideal,  and  then 
keep  on  that  line  ? 

"  We  have  not  a  high-priest  which  cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling 
of  our  infirmities,  but  one  who  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are, 
yet  without  sin." 

Men  are  like  the  vessels  in  a  fleet  that  seek,  with  cun'ents  and 
winds,  to  make  a  given  point  or  rendezvous.  Some  move  forward  in 
a  direct  line,  some  are  diiven  far  in  one  direction,  and  some  are  driven 
far  in  another;  but  at  last  they  all  cast  anchor  in  the  one  harbor. 
And  so,  while  sailing  across  the  sea  of  life,  some  men  keep  their  course, 
some  are  drifted  in  one  way,  and  some  are  drifted  in  another  way ;  but 
we  trust  that  they  will  all  make  the  harbor  at  last,  and  cast  anchor, 
and  be  saved. 

Nor  are  men  tc  be  supposed  to  be  saved  because  they  have  put 
themselves  in  the  right  career  ecclesiastically.  Many  persons  blame 
men,  as  I  have  intimated,  becauso  they  are  so  erratic  and  imj)erfect  in 
their  Christian  lives.  My  rejjly  is,  that  this  is  a  matter  which  belongs 
to  the  human  condition  under  which  our  gi-eat  strife  is  taking  place. 
But  there  are  a  great  many  others  who  say  that  when  once  a  man  is  in 
the  right  church,  and  is  properly  ticketed  and  labeled,  he  is  like  an 
express  package,  that  will  either  go  through  or  else  be  settled  for  by 
the  company.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  anxiety  as  to  which  is  the  true 
church,  and  there  is  a  world  of  investigation  and  study  on  that  very 
point.  If  men  would  study  half  as  much,  and  strive  half  as  hard,  to 
do  the  thing  which  the  New  Testament  really  requires — to  love  justice 
and  mercy ;  to  fear  God  and  sei've  him ;  to  follow  on  and  know  the 
Lord  in  the  way  of  love,  and  peace,  and  purity  of  mind ;  if  men  would 


204  TEE  IDEAL  OF  CHBISTIAN  EXPERIENCE. 

spend  their  time  in  doing  that  half  as  long  or  half  as  actively  as  they 
labor  in  ascertaining  about  the  apostolicity  of  the  Church,  the  canon- 
icity  of  rules  and  regulations,  the  orthodoxy  of  creeds,  and  the  whole 
complicated,  ponderous  machinery  of  ecclesiastical  school-houses,  there 
would  be  more  saints  and  more  nascent  saints  than  there  are  now. 
The  fact  is,  that  ministers  make  themselves  ecclesiastical  engineers, 
and  are  so  busy  running  the  machinery  of  the  church  that  they  have 
no  leisure  left  for  anything  else.  And  there  are  a  great  many  laymen 
who  are  so  busy  studying  the  enginery  by  which  the  church  operates, 
that  they  take  no  comfort  of  the  voyage.  They  are  mere  engineers' 
pupils. 

^  I  do  not  undertake  to  say  that  churches  are  of  no  use.  They  are 
of  a  great  deal  of  use.  They  are  means  of  conveyance  to  heaven. 
They  are  instruments  of  education.  But  they  are  not  divine,  in  any 
other  sense  than  that  in  which  things  that  are  man-made  are  divine. 
Not  a  church  on  earth — not  the  Greek  Church,  nor  the  Koman  Church, 
nor  any  one  of  the  Protestant  Churches — is  any  more  divine  than  civU, 
governments  are.  God  has  not  anywhere  written  down  what  he  wants, 
and  called  it  repuhlicanisra,  or  monarchy,  or  aristocracy.  He  made 
men  so  that  they  must  live  together  in  society ;  and  that  necessity 
involves  the  growing  out  of  it  of  some  sort  of  government.  And  we 
have  at  last  come  to  a  knowledge  of  the  fact  that  what  the  form  of 
that  government  shall  be  is  a  matter  of  experiment.  And  we  scoff  at 
the  idea  of  a  jure  divlno  government.  Whether  it  be  a  government 
with  a  crown  or  a  ballot-box,  we  say  that  it  is  a  human  device  just  as 
much  as  husbandry  is,  and  just  as  much  as  the  mechanic  arts  are, 
which  have  their  foundation  and  necessity  in  nature,  and  are  unfolded 
by  the  ordinary  processes  of  investigation  and  thought.  And  so  it  is 
with  the  church,  and  all  the  ordinances  of  the  church.  There  is  not  an 
ordinance  that  a  man  may  not  neglect,  and  yet  go  to  heaven  ;  and 
there  is  not  an  ordinance  that  a  man  may  not  observe,  and  yet,  in  spite 
of  it,  fail  to  get  to  heaven.  A  man  may  be  a  Catholic,  and  kiss  the 
Pope's  toe  from  the  day  of  his  biith  to  the  day  of  his  death,  and  not 
go  to  heaven.  A  man  may  be  a  Friend  Quaker,  and  eschew  all  ex- 
teiTial  forms  and  ceremonies,  and  yet  be  a  good  Christian,  and  get  to 
heaven.  Our  salvation  does  not  stand  in  the  kind  of  school-house  that 
we  are  in. 

I  went  to  a  school  (heaven  help  the  mark !)  in  a  little  brown  school- 
house,  that  smelled  of  wasps  and  boys,  and  I  sat  there  thi-ough  the 
weary  day,  and  did  not  learn  much ;  but  there  were  other  scholars  that 
did.  That  school-house  was  nothing  to  me  ;  but  shall  I  take  my  indi- 
vidual experience  and  rail  at  the  common-school  which  some  profited 
iby,  though  I  did  not  ? 


TEE  IDEAL  OF  CERISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  205 

All  churches  are  good  churches  to  those  to  whom  they  are  good, 
and  all  churches  are  poor  churches  to  those  to  whom  they  are  poor. 
Turn  your  ox  into  a  clover-field,  and  will  it  not  get  food?  Turn  your 
canary-bird  into  the  same  clover-field,  and  will  he  get  food  ?  Difierent 
kinds  of  creatures  require  difierent  kinds  of  feeding.  There  is  truth 
in  the  saying  that  "  what  is  one  man's  food  is  another  man's  poison." 
Emotive  and  poetic  natures  requii-e  one  sort  of  organization.  Orderly 
and  methodical  natures  require  another  sort  of  organization.  Some 
men  that  are  freer  and  wilder  than  others,  will  not  take  on  a  restraining 
organization.  Let  every  man  have  that  liberty  which  belongs  to  him. 
Only,  here  \t  the  ideal  of  Christian  development ;  and  whether  you  get 
it  in  the  church,  or  over  the  church,  or  under  the  church,  or  out  of  the  , 
church,  get  it.  If  the  church  can  help  you,  take  it ;  and  if  it  cannot  ^j 
help  you,  do  not  take  it.  And  do  not  sit  down  and  grumble,  but  find 
some  other  way.  If  the  church  is  the  best  aid,  take  that,  not  because 
it  is  perfect,  but  because  it  is  better  than  anything  else ;  but  if  there  is 
anything  better  than  the  church,  take  that.  Avail  yourself  of  what- 
ever will  best  promote  the  development  of  your  soul  into  love  and 
peace  and  power  thi'ough  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

Men  who  are  seeking  this  ideal  development  of  Christian  character 
by  morality,  by  general  good  works,  by  a  daily  faithful  use  of  the 
knowledge  which  they  have,  may  be  Christians,  although  they  are  not 
the  highest  style  of  Christians.  They  may  be  Christians,  although 
they  come  far  short  of  this  ideal  Christian  character  which  is  laid  down 
as  the  mark  and  as  the  criterian  in  the  New  Testament.  Men  are  not 
so  much  to  distress  themselves  about  whether  they  are  Christians  or 
not,  as  simply  to  ask  themselves,  "  At  what  point  in  the  progress  am 
I  ?  How  far  have  I  got  along?"  The  New  Testament  recognizes  the 
fact  that  there  is  a  wide  diversity  in  the  phenomena  of  individual  Chris- 
tian life.  The  apostle  declared  that  all  were  not  able  to  receive  the 
truth.  And  Christ  said  to  his  disciples,  "  I  have  many  things  to  tell 
you,  but  you  are  not  able  to  receive  them,"  I  perceive  many  doctrines 
which  are  called  orthodox,  and  which  in  a  measure  or  in  a  manner  ai'e 
rejected  of  men  whom  I  believe  to  be  Christians.  The  nature  of  these 
men's  minds  is  such  that  they  are  not  able  to  receive  those  doctrines. 
The  mode  of  statement  is  not  yet  sufiiciently  generic  to  take  in  all 
forms  of  truth.  The  same  truth  can  take  on  a  multitude  of  difierent 
forms. 

Take  any  one  gi'eat  truth  ;  as,  for  instance,  the  truth  of  the  natural 
character  of  man,  as  low  and  sinful.  The  commanding  fact  is  this : 
that  every  living  being  on  earth  is  sinful  to  such  a  degree  that  he  needs 
the  regenerating  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  that  he  needs  the  divine 
touch  and  stimulating  influence  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  \m 


206  TEE  IDEAL  OF  CEBISTIAN  EXPEDIENCE. 

life,  to  bring  him  up  to  true  manhood.  No  man  reaches  his  final  dis- 
closure by  any  power  that  is  in  himself,  or  any  power  that  is  in  the 
natural  world,  or  any  power  of  education,  or  the  power  of  any  social 
influence  of  society.  Every  man  must  come  to  his  true  and  higher 
manhood  by  the  power  of  God  in  the  soul.  And  every  man  is  deprav- 
ed to  the  degree  in  which  he  needs  that  power. 

Men  may  receive  in  one  age  one  philosophy,  or  one  exposition  of 
the  truth,  in  another  age  another  exposition  of  truth,  and  in  another 
another ;  but  the  essential  point  of  unity  is  there,  though  the  man  may 
be  so  rude  or  cynical  that  the  regenerating  power  of  the  spirit  of  God 
never  can  come  to  his  true  nature.  And  men  may  vary  endlessly  and 
infinitely  in  their  exposition  of  the  truth,  or  in  their  power  of  accepting 
this  or  that  way  of  presenting  the  truth,  and  yet  be  Christians.  And 
so  I  think  that  many  persons  in  churches  who  are  called  heretical  are 
Christians.  Though  they  cannot  accept  doctrinal  statements  of  Chris- 
tian truth,  they  do  in  the  main  accept  that  grand  ideal  of  which  Christ 
was  the  only  embodiment,  and  which  he  more  perfectly  presents  than 
it  was  ever  presented  before.  And  they  are  following  after  Christ. 
Aud  it  is  doing  that  which  constitutes  them  Christians — not  Christians 
on  the  be^t  model,  it  may  be ;  but  Christians  that  are  on  theu*  way  to- 
ward perfection.  They  are  of  those  of  whom  the  apostle  says,  "  They 
shall  be  saved  so  as  by  fire."  Nevertheless,  they  are  in  the  train,  and 
are  on  the  road,  and  by  the  grace  of  God  shall  yet  see  eternal  life. 

The  Christian  attainment  in  this  life  will  vary  in  one  and  another. 
Some  seem  to  grow  but  little,  and  some  seem  to  grow  veiy  much. 
There  are  infinite  degrees  of  variation  in  the  actual  attainments  of  men 
in  this  world,  partly  from  the  forces  which  they  inherit,  partly  from  the 
education  which  they  receive,  and  partly  from  circumstances  which 
help  one  and  hinder  another.  A  hundred  things  there  are  which  vary 
the  successful  application  of  man's  purposes  to  the  great  end  of  spirit- 
ual life.  But  every  man  that  knows  in  his  own  soul  that  the  thing 
which  he  wants  and  is  aiming  at  and  seeking  is  a  perfect  manhood  in 
Christ  Jesus — him  I  call  a  Christian — a  follower  of  Christ. 

We  must,  therefore,  make  our  definitions  larger  and  more  charita- 
ble. We  must  make  our  terms  of  admission  to  Christian  communion 
larger  and  more  charitable.  We  must,  above  all  things,  explode,  first 
or  last,  the  idea  that  man-made  institutions  can  be  so  constructed,  just^ 
ly  and  rightfully,  in  the  sight  of  God,  as  to  exclude  those  whom  Christ 
himself  personally  receives,  and  whose  life  gives  evidence  of  the  in- 
dwelling of  the  Holy  Ghost.  No  church  on  earth  can  stand  when 
God  looks  upon  it  and  sees  that  there  are  many  that  are  not  permitted 
to  come  into  it,  not  because  they  are  not  followers  of  Christ,  but  be- 
cause tliey  do  not  know  how  to  accept  the  interpretations  and  con- 


THE  IDEAL  OF  CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  207 

structlons  which  some  men  put  upon  the  great  problems  of  divine  tinith. 
A  man  need  not,  therefore,  despair  because  he  is  not  orthodox.  A 
man  need  not  despair  because  he  is  not  a  Chiistian  as  he  sees  that  other 
people  ai"e  Christians.  I  would  preach  a  catholicity  as  broad  as  the 
heart  of  my  Master.  I  hold  up  this  great  conce^Jtion  of  divine  life  in 
the  soul — this  fact  that,  by  the  power  of  God,  it  is  possible  for  us  to 
have  a  spiritual  life  that  shall  lift  us  easily  into  the  precinct  and 
presence  and  communion  of  God ;  so  that  the  influence  which  comes 
upon  our  soul,  from  day  to  day,  reflected  from  the  sky,  reflected  from 
the  earth,  reflected  from  living  things,  reflected  from  business  and  soci- 
ety, shall  still  be  the  influence  of  the  divine  power. 

I  believe  that  under  that  soul-guidance  and  inspu'ation,  if  we  will 
only  yield  to  it  and  be  led  by  it,  there  is,  connected  with  this  royalty 
of  love-life  with  God  the  profoundest  harmony  and  peace  in  our  own 
selves.  The  torment  of  the  battle  between  the  upper  and  the  lower 
life  in  man  ceases  or  may  cease.  Of  all  battles,  there  are  none  like  the 
unrecorded  battles  of  the  soul.  Without  banners  spread  or  trumpets 
mounded,  with  no  visible  conflict  and  clash  of  arms,  God  and  angels 
know  that  the  fiercest  battles  and  bitterest  strifes  of  the  universe  are 
those  which  are  waged  in  the  secret  places  of  men's  souls,  where  the 
earthly,  sensual  and  beastly  elements  of  human  nature  are  in  conflict 
with  that  which  is  pure  and  sweet  and  spiritual  in  them.  These  are  the 
battles  that  God  registers,  which  are  going  on  in  men,  and  which, 
blessed  be  God,  issue,  or  may  issue,  in  the  "  peace  which  passcth  all 
understanding,"  in  that  land  where  love,  and  conscience,  and  faith  and 
hope  appear,  chanting  the  song  of  victory,  and  wearing  upon  theu" 
heads  the  laurel  wreath,  and  where  selfishness  and  pride  and  passion 
are  humbled  to  become  the  servants  of  the  soul,  and  no  longer  to  be 
its  despots  and  masters. 

"  It  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be."  You  and  I  probably 
shall  not  reach  this  attainment  in  the  present  life.  But  there  are  some, 
I  think,  who  come  very  near  to  it.  When  I  read  the  lives  of  saints  in 
the  old  Roman  church  ;  when  I  read  the  life  of  Eugenie  de  Gucrin  ;  when 
I  read  of  the  Madam  Guyons  ;  when  I  read  of  one  and  another  in  the 
Protestant  Saints'  Calen-lar,  that  seem  to  have  lifted  themselves  up,  or 
to  have  been  lifted  up,  above  the  perturbations  of  this  lower  atmos- 
phere, and  to  have  lived  in  perpetual  joy,  I  do  not  feel  inclined  to 
doubt  that  there  are  some  who  do  reach  that  state.  I  am  disjiosed  to 
think  that  it  is  not  simply  a  final  condition  into  which  we  are  to  come 
at  last,  but  that  it  is  a  normal  condition,  and  one  into  which  we  may 
come,  and  in  which  we  may  abide,  in  this  life.  So  that  when  I  see  in 
a  soul  great  goodness,  and  great  benignity,  and  great  peace,  and  great 
joy,  and  a  state  of  forelooking  toward  its  heritage,  I  do  not  say  within 


208  TEE  IDEAL  OF  CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE. 

myself,  "  This  is  something  unnatural."  I  do  not  say,  "  His  appetites 
and  passions  have  burned  out  and  left  only  his  higher  manhood."  I  do 
not  say,  "  This  is  the  quiet  of  autumnal  decadence  in  him."  No,  that 
is  the  direction  of  true  human  growth,  toward  joy,  and  peace  and 
power. 

I  go  further,  and  say  that  I  do  not  doubt  that  there  was  revealed  in 
the  apostles  a  mii'aculous  power.  Nor  do  I  doubt  that  there  have  been 
ages  since  the  time  of  the  apostles  in  which  there  have  been  here  and 
there  single  natm-es  that  were  ordained  nobly,  and,  by  education,  or  in 
the  divine  providence,  brought  into  such  conditions  that  they  reached 
the  altitudes  of  this  higher  disclosure,  and  had  power  such  as  does  not 
belong  to  ordinary  mortals.  I  do  not  doubt  that  there  may  be  some 
persons  who  are  able  to  break  through  into  that  power  yet.  And  I  be- 
'\  lieve  the  time  may  come  in  which  the  race  will  have  reached  that  stage 
of  development  in  which  it  will  be  found  that  there  is  power  in  the  soul 
of  a  man  to  use  natural  laws  in  ways  that  are  now  misunderstood,  and 
that  we  call  miraculous.  I  believe  that  this  is  among  the  ultimate  dis- 
closures of  Christianity  in  the  individual  soul. 

But  it  is  not  for  you  nor  for  me,  probably.  I  am  one  of  the  linger- 
ers. I  reach  so  far  up  that  I  can  begin  to  see  what  they  are  doing 
above  me.  You  reach  in  the  same  direction.  And  yet,  though  I  have 
Bome  faint  conception  of  the  reality  of  that  state,  it  doth  not  yet  ap- 
pear to  me  what  I  shall  be.  But  I  know  that  when  he  shall  appear  I 
shall  be  like  him.  For  I  shall  see  him  as  he  is.  This  I  know :  that  my 
life  is  hid,  now,  with  Christ  in  God ;  and  that  when  he  shall  appear,  I 
shall  also  appear  with  him.  I  shall  never  know  myself,  I  shall  never 
make  my  true  appearance,  until  I  stand  enfranchised  and  rejoice  in  the 
glory  of  God  in  the  other  world.  Then  I  shall  reach  all  that  I  have 
dreamed  of,  and  aspired  to,  and  striven  after,  and  fought  for — and  not 
till  then. 

Between  this  and  that,  battle,  night  and  day,  turbulent  elementa. 
unbalanced  forces ;  but  then,  my  own  better  self,  my  educated  self,  all 
that  in  me  which  is  unfolded  and  brought  into  symmetry — the  quali- 
ties which  have  been  developed  under  the  training  of  the  schoolmaster 
Jesus,  who  has  shone  out  upon  me  and  made  me  what  I  am — these  are 
'    tending  to  draw  me  upward  and  onward  toward  my  heavenly  home. 
•         In  Jesus,  the  First  and  the  Last ;  the  Alpha  and  Omega ;  the  soul's 
5  Nurse ;  the  soul's  Mother ;  the  soul's  Saviour ;  the  Providence  and  the 
^ Grace;  the  all  in  this  w^orld  that  we  can  know  of  God — in  him  the 
'^Father  dwells,  and  he  in  the  Father;  so  that  they  who  have  seen  Jesus 
have  seen  the  Father  also.     Him  I  shall  see  in  the  magnitude  and  in 
the  glory  of  the  then  revealed  beauty  of  the  Godhead.     And  I  shall  be 
like  him,  as  the  miniatme  is  like  the  full  size  ;  and  I  shall  be  satisfied. 


THE  IDEAL  OF  CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE.  209 

When  tlie  tide  has  been  coming  in,  I  have  often  seen  how  it  chafed 
and  fretted,  running  into  some  narrow-mouthed  bay,  filHng  it,  swuling 
round,  and  lapping  up  on  the  shores,  till  by-and-by,  still  flowing,  and 
flowing,  and  flowing,  it  filled  the  bay  full, — the  tide  had  spent  itself, 
there  ran  a  smoothing  ripple  all  over  the  surface,  and  the  whole 
bay  at  last  was  at  rest.  And  so  the  soul,  while  yet  it  is  being  filled, 
iH  disturbed  by  ripples  and  eddies;  but  by-and-by,  when  it  shall 
have  been  filled  full  of  the  power  and  presence  of  God,  it  will  be  satis- 
fied, and  will  be  perfectly  at  peace,  and  will  be  full  of  joy ;  and  singing 
forever  and  forever  shall  be  its  sweet  employment  in  heaven.  Sorrow 
and  sighing  shall  flee  away,  and  the  old  dark,  mourning  world  we 
shall  remember  as  children  in  manhood  remember  the  moment's  shower 
of  their  youth  that  broke  up  theii*  pleasure-party.  All  the  sufferings 
that  we  have  experienced  while  getting  our  education,  vsdll,  when  we 
shall  once  have  come  to  our  perfect  manhood  in  Christ  Jesus,  seem  to 
us  only  as  di'eams.  And  the  price  that  we  shall  have  paid  will  seem  as 
nothing,  and  less  than  nothing,  in  comparison  with  the  exceeding  glory 
of  that  which  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nor  the  heart  of  man 
conceived. 

Go  on,  dear  brethren.  Many  of  you  are  nearer  home  than  you 
think.  A  step  more,  and  you  shall  rest.  JMany  of  you,  though  far 
away  yet,  ai'e  under  a  safe  convoy.  Press  forward.  Let  nothing  dis- 
courage you.  Though  your  attainments  may  be  small,  and  though 
your  sins  may  be  many,  remember  that  you  are  Chiist's,  not  because 
you  are  good,  but  because  you  are  to  be  developed  into  goodness  by 
him.     Trust  him,   follaw  tim,   that  by-and-by  you  may  live  with  him. 


210  THE  IDEAL  OF  CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE, 

PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMOK 

We  acknowledge  thee,  our  Father  and  our  Saviour,  as  the  source  of  life. 
"We  draw  from  thee  both  light  and  knowledge  and  comfort.  All  susten- 
ance of  the  soul  is  of  thee.  And  that  which  we  seem  to  borrow  of  one  an- 
other is  but  reflected  light.  We  rejoice  that  thou,  the  Supreme  and  the  all- 
filling,  art  all-satisfying.  There  is  no  want  that  is  in  us  which  thou  canst 
not  supply.  We  rejoice  that  thou  hast  made  us,  even  in  this  life,  so  rich, 
so  strong,  lifting  us  up  above  all  the  animal  race,  and  giving  to  us  degrees 
of  power  eminent  above  all  these  other  influences  underneath  authority. 
And  we  rejoice  that  we  have  not  reached  nor  attained  to  the  end  of  being; 
that  above  us  are  rf.nks  and  degrees  infinite ;  yea,  and  that  we,  too,  are  ris- 
ing to  take  hold  o/  higher  attainments ;  and  tliat,  in  nobler  circumstances, 
and  in  perfected  being,  we  are  to  be  sons  of  God.  What  that  is  does  not 
yet  appear.  We  know  that  it  is  glorious.  We  know  that  it  shall  fill  us 
with  satisfaction.  In  the  midst  of  toils,  under  burdens,  with  darkness  hang- 
ing about  our  path,  we  look,  though  we  know  not  their  full  meaning,  to 
these  precious  promises  which  make  the  future  so  bright,  which  destroy  the 
fear  of  dying,  and  which  take  sadness  away  from  decay  and  decline  in  years. 
We  believe  that  we  w^ere  old  when  we  were  born,  as  they  that  are  farthest 
from  their  true  life ;  and  that  we  are  growing  young  as  we  grow  old,  as 
those  that  draw  near  to  themselves  indeed.  For  then  alone  shall  we  be 
what  we  are  to  be  when  we  shall  have  reached  thy  presence  in  the  heavenly 
land. 

And  now  we  rejoice  that  years  are  bringing,  with  the  waste  of  worldly 
things,  the  creation,  the  revelation,  and  the  full  joy  and  foretaste  of  those 
better  possessions,  those  nobler  experiences,  from  reformed,  and  purified,  and 
exalted  faculties,  which  thou  shalt  give  to  all  that  are  with  thee  in  the 
heavenly  land.  Fill  us  with  this  sacred  thought,  and  the  intimations  of 
our  coming  state,  so  that  we  may,  even  in  this  world,  learn,  under  burdens 
and  under  discouragements,  yet  to  be  cheerful,  yet  to  maintain  our  faith 
and  our  hold  upon  duty,  and  not  to  count  meanly  of  ourselves,  nor  throw 
away  our  chances  of  immortality.  And  grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  all  those 
who  are  in  twilight  seeking  dimly  to  live  aright,  may  have  a  clearer  under- 
standing of  the  divine  plan  in  human  life. 

We  pray  that  all  those  who  are  waging  battle  against  their  own  passions 
and  easily  besetting  sins  may  have  thy  presence,  and  the  inspiration  of  thy 
Spirit ;  that  they  may  never  lay  down  their  arms  till  they  are  victorious 
over  every  thought  and  feeling,  and  have  brought  every  one  into  subjection 
to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  make  us  hate  selfishness 
in  all  its  forms.  Grant  that  more  and  more  we  may  see  what  beauty  there 
is  in  kindness  and  love,  both  toward  God  and  toward  men.  And  may  that 
be  the  kingdom  where  we  shall  desire  to  reign,  and  in  wliich  we  shall  strive 
to  attain  degrees  of  excellence  and  of  honor.  And,  while  other  men  rage 
and  contest  for  the  things  which  perish  in  the  using,  may  we  seek  to  lay  up 
treasure  in  heaven,  where  moth  and  rust  do  not  corrupt,  and  where  thieves 
do  not  break  through  nor  steal.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  look  upon  all 
those  that  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness,  to  whom  thou  hast  made 
the  gracious  promise  that  they  shall  be  filled.  Grant  that  they  may  have 
soul-satisfaction,  perfect  rest,  in  thee.  Thou  hast  promised  peace,  not  as  the 
world  gives,  but  divine  and  celestial  peace.  Grant  that  there  may  be  many 
to  whom  this  promise  shall  be  fulfilled.  Great  peace  may  they  have  that 
love  thy  law,  and  that  love  thee  and  thy  cause.  And  we  pray  that  thou 
wilt  fill  thy  people  with  holy  zeal,  not  alone  for  themselves,  but  for  the  up- 
building of  thine  outward  kingdom  in  this  world.  May  the  number  of  those 
that  live  by  faith  be  multiplied.  May  the  number  of  those  whose  power  is 
in  love  be  increased.  May  all  who  love  thee  sincerely  learn  to  love  one  an- 
other.   And  we  pray  that  there  may  grow  up  this  heart-unity  by  which, 


TEE  IDEAL  OF  CHEISTIAN  EXPERTEJS'CE.  211 

little  by  little,  outward  dissensions  shall  be  absorbed,  and  things  needful 
shall  be  made  harmless. 

We  pray,  O  Lord,  that  thou  wilt  bless  thy  cause  under  every  form.  May 
justice  prevail.  May  truth  assert  its  right.  May  men  yield  allegiance  to 
thee  under  all  forms  of  goodness.  ]\Iay  they  see  the  God  tliat  incarnates 
himself  in  the  ways  of  men,  and  follow  after  every  step  of  rectitude,  and  right- 
eousness, and  purity  and  gentleness,  and  mercy  and  love. 

And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  be  near  to  all  that  are  in  trouble,  and  succor 
them,  or  teach  them  the  mystery  of  sutloring,  and  all  its  benetit.  Grant  that 
any  who  are  sorrowing  under  bereavements,  while  they  acknowledge  thino 
hand  reverently,  may  partake  somewhat  of  the  joy  that  yet  shall  be  revealed 
in  them  when  sutfeiing  shall  have  had  its  perfect  work.  And  be  near  to 
give  light  to  any  that  are  in  darkness  and  perplexity;  to  any  that  are  in 
douljts  and  fears  at  every  step;  to  any  that  are  under  the  bondage  of  con- 
science. May  their  tyrant  relax  his  hold,  and  give  them  that  peace  which 
love  brings,  and  conscience  cannot. 

And  we  pray  thee,  O  Lord,  our  God !  that  thou  wilt  draw  near  to  all 
that  are  in  poverty,  and  are  struggling  therewith.  May  they  have  the  pow- 
er given  them  by  which  they  shall  see  above  the  visible  and  the  present,  and 
live  more  and  more  in  the  glories  of  thy  coming  deliverance. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  all  clashes  and  conditi<ms  of  men  may  come  up 
before  thee,  and  may  receive  thy  divine  benediction. 

Bless  the  churches  that  are  gathered  together  in  these  great  cities,  and 
all  thy  servants  that  to-day  shall  preach  the  Gospel.  And  may  they  be  able 
to  preach  with  power  from  on  high.  And  may  they  see  the  word  prosp-^jr- 
ing  in  their  hands,  and  the  cause  of  God  growing. 

We  pray  that  wars  may  cease,  and  that  the  occasions  of  war  may  perish. 
And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  ignorance  may  flee  away,  and  superstition 
therewith;  and  that  all  the  earth  nuiy  see  the  salvation  of  our  God. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

Our  Heavenly  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  p:rant  the  light 
of  consolation,  and  joy.  and  comfort,  to  all  those  thy  ibllowers  that  are  seek- 
ing, through  the  twilight  and  through  the  darkness,  to  find  thee.  How 
great  is  that  darknei-s  to  some!  How  many  are  there  that  say,  "All  thy 
waves  have  gone  over  me.  All  my  passions  sweep  headlong,  terrific,  uncon- 
trolled and  uncontrollable.  ]\Iy  God  !  my  God  !  dost  tliou  care  for  me  ?" 
Thou  dost  care  for  the  poor  and  struggling  eoul.  Thou  dost  understand  how 
hard  the  conflict  is  with  those  that  are  under  the  dominion  of  passion; 
that  have  been  perverted  by  bad  education;  that  are  biased  and  drawn 
away  by  sympathies  of  evil  people  round  about  them ;  that  are,  by  sickness 
and  poverty,  and  ten  thousand  grating  inliuences  of  life,  made  wretched. 
Thou  art  sorry  for  them ;  and  though  sin  is  in  them,  and  thou  canst  not 
bear  that  they  should  be  sinners,  yet  thou  dost  love  them;  and  thou  art 
waiting  for  them  ;  and  thou  art  patient ;  and  thou  art  sending  them  sweet 
angelic  influences;  and  .'f  they  will,  thou  wilt  bring  them  out  of  bondage, 
and  thou  wilt  carry  them  through  the  desert,  and  they  shall  even  see  the 
promised  land.  Great  is  the  power  of  thy  grace  over  against  our  weakness 
and  want. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  if  there  are  those  in  thy  presence  who  desire  to  live 
aright,  but  stand  still  thinking  that  they  will  wait  till  they  know  better 
what  to  do,  that  they  may  hear  thy  voice  saying  to  them.  If  any  man  will 
do  my  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine  which  I  preach. 


212  TEE  IDEAL  OF  CHBISTIAN  EXPERIENCE. 

Grant,  0  Lord,  that  every  one  may  be  active  in  the  cause  of  God,  casting 
oflF  evil,  reaching  out  to  perfect  communion  with  thee,  to  the  joy  of  a  con- 
trolling love,  and  to  that  peace  which  passeth  all  understanding. 

Grant  that  every  one  may  live,  not  for  time,  not  for  money,  not  for  pleaS' 
ure,  not  for  ambition,  not  even  for  friendship,  but  for  self  in  God.  And  may 
every  one  see  in  God  the  grand  aim  of  his  life,  and  feel  the  drawing  of  thine 
heart.  May  we  be  everlastingly  homesick  till  we  get  home.  And  we  be- 
seech of  thee  that  we  may  be  near  to  those  who  hunger  and  thirst  after 
righteousness,  and  who  are  seeking  every  day  to  fulfill  thy  will,  and  yet  are 
conscious  that  they  walk  in  shaded  places,  and  for  whose  feet  there  are  no 
mountain  tops,  nor  land  of  Beulah,  nor  out-look  of  blissful  foresight.  Grant 
that  still  they  may  labor  in  the  appointed  places,  and  according  to  the  di- 
vine will,  and  wait  for  the  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ  in  them  in  the  world  to 
come. 

It  is  not  long.  They  are  seeds  yet,  but  are  soon  to  sprout  and  grow,  and 
shall  grow  in  a  fairer  clime  and  a  better  soil.  And  grant,  we  pray  thee, 
that  those  who  stand  very  near  to  thee  may  listen  if  perad venture  they  yet 
may  bear  the  harp  and  the  sound  of  the  heavenly  band. 

Oh  !  how  many  are  there  there  whom  we  would  hear  again  I  Our  arms 
reach  out  that  have  been  emptied.  Our  heart  longs  to  feel  again  the 
head  that  once  covered  it.  We  wait  for  those  that  are  dear  to  us  as  our  life. 
They  are  gone,  and  the  places  that  knew  them  shall  know  them  no  more 
forever.  Blessed  spirits  !  we  are  coming  to  thee,  and  are  not  far  away. 
Come  to  the  battlement,  and  cry  out  to  us.  Come,  come  that  the  Spirit  and 
the  Bride  in  your  voices  may  invite  us  thither.  Lord  Jesus  we  are  coming 
to  thee,  poor,  spent,  discouraged,  sinful,  to  be  born  again,  and  again,  and 
again,  until  we  may  grow  up  into  thee  in  all  things.  Do  not  despise  us. 
Be  very  gentle  to  us.  Put  thine  arms  about  us,  that  we  may  be  carried  in 
the  bosom  of  thy  love  into  oiA  Father's  kingdom.  And  there  will  we  praise 
the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Spirit,  forever  more.    Amen. 


XII. 

Observance  of  the  Lord's  Day. 


INVOCATION. 


May  29, 1870. 

WE  have  heard  thy  voice,  our  Father;  and  we  run  to  meet  thee,  and 
to  rejoice  as  vre  stautl  around  about  tliee;  and  looking  up,  we  ask  the 
blessing  of  love  and  the  joy  of  thy  Spirit,  that  ours  may  come  into  communion 
with  thine.  And  though  Ave  are  so  far  away,  and  so  uninstructed  that  thou 
must  teach,  and  the  work  must  be  thiue;  yet  in  thine  infinite  greatness  of 
love,  in  thy  sympathy  and  mercy,  thou  dost  delight  to  po.ar  forth  thine  intel- 
I'gence  upou  ours ;  and  this  day  we  come  not  as  beggars,  and  scarcely  as  sup^ 
pliants.  We  come  as  children  come  home.  We  come,  feeling  sure  that  we 
are  welcome.  We  come,  and  lay  aside  at  the  threshold  our  care  and  our 
troubles,  that  the  light  of  the  glory  of  God  as  it  shines  in  the  face  of  Jesus 
Christ  may  become  our  delight,  and  that  we  may  have  the  liberty  of  the 
word  in  thy  presence  to-day.  Sanctify  us,  then,  by  the  Holy  Spiri ',  that  we 
may  read  tliy  word  with  an  understanding  heart;  that  we  may  commune  in 
prayer  with  thee,  led,  guided  by  thee ;  that  we  may  be  able,  in  fellowship 
and  gladness,  to  sing  the  sacred  songs  of  Zion  together ;  that  we  may  love 
one  another,  and  perfect  and  purify  our  friendships,  as  we  are  standing 
together  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ  Jesus;  that  we  may  this  day  humble 
our  ambition ;  that  we  may  this  day  get  food  by  which  to  live  above  the 
world  while  we  are  living  in  it.  And  so  in  all  our  joy  and  in  all  our  duty 
may  we  have  thy  presence  and  thy  help  and  divine  approbation.  And  to 
the  Father,  the  Sou  and  the  Spirit,  shall  be  praises  forever.    Amen. 


OBSEEVANCE  OF  THE  LORD'S  DAY. 


"If  thon  turn  away  thy  foot  from  the  Sabbath,  from  doing  thy  pleasure 
on  my  holy  day  ;  and  call  the  Sabbath  a  delight,  the  holy  of  the  Lord,  hon- 
orable; and  shalt  honor  him,  not  doing  thine  own  ways,  nor  finding  thine 
own  pleasure,  nor  speaking  thine  own  words:  Then  shalt  thou  delight  thy- 
self in  the  Lord ;  and  I  will  cause  thee  to  ride  uj^on  the  high  places  of  the 
earth,  and  feed  thee  with  the  heritage  of  Jacob  thy  father :  for  the  mouth 
of  the  Lord  hath  spoken  it." — Isa.,  LVIIL,  13, 14. 


Every  house  of  any  consideration  has  in  it  a  best  room.  It  is 
usually  the  largest  in  the  house,  and  the  most  comely.  It  usually  is 
furnished  with  the  choicest  things  which  the  owner  can  aiford,  and 
represents  the  best  outward  estate  of  his  household.  Here  is  the  best 
cai-pet.  Here  are  the  best  colors.  Here  is  the  best  furniture.  Here 
are  hung  the  best  pictures.  Here  are  the  chairs  burnished  and  cover- 
ed. And  here,  it  may  be,  is  the  sofa,  luxurious  with  extra  springs.  The 
few  choice  treasui'es  are  put  upon  the  mantel-piece,  or  on  some  corner 
BhelfT  Whatever  there  is  that  stands  apart  from  common  uses  by  be- 
ing a  little  better,  the  parlor  receives.  And  this  room  is  scrupulously 
kept — too  scrupulously,  often.  All  festive  occasions  are  celebrated  in 
it.  It  is  the  room  of  honor.  It  is  here  that  we  devote  ourselves  to 
our  company  when  we  would  show  them  hospitality.  It  stands  in  the 
house  as  a  perpetual  reminder  of  beauty — what  little  beauty  we  can 
command ;  of  hospitality — so  much  as  we  are  able  to  exercise  of  it ;  of 
superiority.  A  best  room  is  not  simply  an  emblem  of  vanity,  as  cyn- 
ics would  say.  To  have  a  room  which  has  in  it  choice  things,  is  rather 
the  unconscious  inspiration  of  ideality ;  it  is  a  desu-e  to  maintain  it  in 
the  household  ;  and  it  is  a  silent  but  real  influence  for  refinement  and 
for  higher  living. 

It  is  a  sad  thing  to  see  a  person  or  a  famil}'  that  makes  one  day 
just  like  another ;  that  does  not  care  to  make  one  day  better  than  any  of 
the  others  ;  that  regards  all  things  as  good  enough.  On  a  low  level,  it  is 
a  moral  influence  that  leads  one  to  desire  to  dress  better  on  some  occa- 
sions than  on  others,  and  to  spread  a  better  table  on  some  occasions 
than  on  others.  Although  I  should  not  dignify  such  efforts  as  these  by 
calling  them  religious,   I  do  say  that  they  are  minor  forms  of  the  in- 

SuvnAY  Morning,  May  29,  1870.  Lesson  :  Isa.  LVIIL  IIyiiks  (rijmouth  Collection) « 
Nob.  52,  365,  30. 


214         OBSERVANCE  OF  TEE  LORD'S  DAY. 

spiration  of  moral  feeling,  and  indicate  the  disposition  that  is  so  neces- 
sary to  humanity — the  disjjosition  to  go  up  ;  to  leave  lower  forms  in 
favor  of  higher  developments,  both  in  material  things,  in  social  ele- 
ments, in  intellectual  progress,  and  in  moral  estate.  It  is  aspiration  in 
one  of  its  lower  forms. 

Now,  what  the  parlor  is  to  the  house,  the  Jewish  Sabbath  and  its 
substitute,  the  Christian's  Lord's  Day,  were  meant  to  be  to  the  week. 
The  week  is  a  house,  and  Sunday  is  the  best  room  in  it,  and  it  ought 
to  have  the  best  things  put  into  it,  and  it  ought  to  be  kept  religiously  ; 
and  it  is  to  exercise  upon  all  our  time  just  the  same  unconscious  influ- 
ence, or  conscious  influence,  as  the  case  may  be,  which  a  well-prepared 
and  well-kept  parlor  does  invariably  exercise  upon  all  the  occupants  of 
the  house.  Every  week  was  to  have  its  parlor-day.  It  was  to  be  a 
day  that  should  be  looked  up  to  by  the  young  and  by  the  old  as  the 
best  day  of  the  week.  In  other  words,  it  was  to  be  a  delight.  It  was 
to  be  honorable ;  and  so,  memorable.  In  the  passage  which  I  have  read 
to  you,  Isaiah  declares  that  if  men,  in  then*  observance  of  the  Lord's 
Day,  will  lay  aside  their  common  doings,  and  their  lower  pleasures  and 
worldly  occupations,  and  so  give  themselves  to  the  Sabbath  as  to  make 
it  a  delight  and  most  honorable,  God  will  not  fail  to  bless  them,  and 
their  posterity,  and  their  nation. 

The  Lord's  Day  is  an  established  thing ;  and  I  do  not  propose,  this 
morning,  to  examine  its  history,  nor  its  transmutations,  nor  the  gi'ounds 
of  its  authority.  I  propose  simply  to  illustrate  and  enforce  some  points 
in  the  matter  of  its  right  observance. 

What  are  we  to  aim  to  secure  on  that  day  ?  All  that  part  of  our  life 
which  is  exercised  through  the  six  days  of  the  week,  and  taxed  by 
strife,  is  to  have  rest  on  Sunday.  Our  strife  of  soul  and  strife  of  body, 
our  working  thoughts  and  our  working  members,  are  all  of  them  to 
liave  that  rest  which  comes  from  no  longer  working.  This  is  the  lower 
form  of  its  benefit.  We  are,  on  that  day,  by  giving  this  rest  to  the 
lower  natm-e,  to  give  enjoyment  and  inspiration,  and  a  chance  for  de- 
velopment, to  that  part  of  our  nature  which  is  usually  overborne  dur- 
ing the  week  by  secular  affairs,  and  which  ought  to  have  some  special 
time  to  itself  for  culture  and  development.  The  object  of  'Sunday 
is  to  say  to  that  in  men  which  is  secular  and  animal,  "  Rest ;"  and  to 
that  which  is  intellectual  and  moral  and  social,  "  Grow."  It  is  a  day 
for  the  better  part  of  our  manhood  to  thi'ive  in.  It  is  not  by  implica- 
tion said  that  the  other  part  ought  not  to  thrive.  It  is  simply  implied 
that  the  higher  as  well  as  the  lower  part  of  our  being  should  be  devel- 
oped. We  say  that  the  bone  and  the  muscle  must  toil ;  we  say  that  a 
man  must  plan  and  labor  and  persevere  in  outward  things  ;  but  we  say, 
also,  that  while  we  strive  for  the  necessities  of  existence  in  this  life. 


OBSERVANCE  OF  TEE  LORD'S  DAY.  215 

during  six  days  in  the  week,  it  is  proper  that  during  the  seven  days 
there  should  be  one  that  should  be  schoolmaster  to  the  higher  nature 
of  man  ;  that  should  have  something  to  say  to  his  intellect,  independ- 
ent of  its  relations  to  thrift  and  secularity ;  that  should  remind  him 
that  he  is  not  to  live  in  this  world  alone,  and  should  lift  him  up  to  a 
higher  plane ;  and  that  should  shed  abroad  on  him  such  influences  as 
would  make  him  happier  in  his  higher  manhood  than  he  ordinarily  is 
in  his  lower  and  secular  manhood.  The  Lord's  day  is  a  day  for  social, 
moral  and  intellectual  development  trnvard  a  nobler  manhood  than  the 
world  can  inspire  during  the  other  six  days  of  the  week. 

How  are  we,  then,  to  observe  the  Sabbath  so  as  to  gain  these  ad- 
vantages ?  It  should  be  so  done  that  the  result  should  be  enjoyable, 
and  that  the  day  should  be  regarded  as  a  friendly  day.  I  know  it  is 
impossible  for  one  who  is  wholly  vulgar,  selfish,  unspiritual,  to  begin 
to  observe  the  Sabbath  and  find  it  other  than  uksome.  In  other  words, 
the  natural  man  understands  not  the  things  of  the  spirit.  A  vulgar 
man  cannot  be  pleased  with  refiuemeut.  A  bad  man  is  not  happy 
among  good  men.  Nevertheless,  the  general  effect  of  the  Sabbath  Day 
is  not  to  be  burdensome.  It  is  not  to  be  a  restricted  day.  It  is  not  to 
be  a  day  of  seclusion.  It  is  not  to  be  a  day  in  which  a  man  is  to  afilict 
his  soul.  It  is  to  be  a  day  whose  impression,  on  the  whole,  whose  av- 
erage and  general  effect  (whatever  special  exceptions  may  be  made 
temporarily  in  the  progress  of  education  from  a  lower  form  to  a  higher) 
shall  be  such  on  every  man  that  he  shall  feel  that  it  is  a  delight,  that  it 
is  honorable,  and  that  it  is  memorable.  This  Sabbath  is  not  that  con- 
ventional Sabbath,  that  sectarian  Sabbath,  that  drudging  Sunday, 
which  is  wearisome ;  which  leaves  a  man  less  of  himself  than  he  had 
before  ;  which  puts  him  under  yoke  and  in  chains ;  and  which  makes 
him  sigh  when  he  wakes  up,  and  say,  "  Oh  !  it  is  Sunday  morning,  as 
sure  as  I  live," — and  the  pleasantest  feature  of  which  is  the  going  down 
of  the  sun.  That  way  of  observing  Sunday  is  not  divine ;  is  not  Chris- 
tian ;  is  not  scriptural ;  is  not  religious. 

We  are  to  bear  this  in  mind  as  the  characteristic  circumstance,  that 
whatever  you  do,  and  whatever  you  avoid,  in  your  observance  of  the 
Sabbath  (or  the  Lords  Day,  which  is  the  more  appropriate  term.  Nei- 
ther Sunday  nor  Sabbath  is  as  good  as  Lords  Day  for  our  use — 
though  you  may  use  either  or  all  of  them  without  any  superstition,  or 
any  fear  but  that  the  Lord  will  know  what  you  mean,  if  you  know) 
— whatever  you  do,  and  whatever  you  avoid,  in  your  observance  of  this 
day,  it  is  to  be  characterized  by  pleasantness.  It  is  to  be  made  pleas- 
ant, not  by  low  pleasures,  not  by  carnal  pleasures,  not  by  self-indul- 
gence, not  by  gluttony,  not  by  the  lower  forms  of  conviviality,  but  by 
the  development  of  superior  manhood,  and  of  Christian  joys.     And 


216  OBSERVANCE  OF  THE  LORD'S  DAT, 

when  I  say  Christian  joys,  I  mean  manhood  joys.  For  Christ  is  the 
one  great  typical  Man  ;  and  all  high  manhood  necessarily  conforms  to 
Christ. 

This  day,  then,  is  to  be  the  one  day  of  the  week  which  is  to  act  up- 
on our  higher  nature  exclusively,  and  Avhich  is  to  make  us  men.  It  is 
the  Lord's  Day ;  but  it  is  no  more  his  day  than  it  is  ManhoocTs  day.  It 
should  therefore  carry  in  its  habits,  in  its  demands,  in  its  fulfillments, 
in  its  associations,  this  feeling  of  joyfulness  in  a  redeemed  and  a  higher 
way  of  living.  And  if  a  man  once  gets  the  idea  in  his  mind  that  the 
Sabbath  is  a  day  to  let  forth  the  better  part  of  his  nature,  and  that  his 
higher  feelings  are  to  be  so  excited  and  brought  out  that  the  day,  on 
the  whole,  shall  become  more  and  more  a  delightful  and  happy  day  to 
him  ;  then  he  has  a  principle  in  his  nature  that  is  better  than  any  special 
rules.  He  has  a  principle  that  will  determine  what  he  may  do  or  what 
he  may  not  do.  The  whole  observance  of  the  Sabbath  Day  is  but  a 
practical  and  experimental  method  of  carrying  out  this  principle.  It  is 
so  employing  the  day  that  one's  higher  manhood  shall  pronounce  it  a 
joyful  day — a  day  delightful  and  honorable. 

As  a  workman  would  refuse  to  carry  any  part  of  his  shop  into  the 
parlor  where  company  was  invited;  as,  when  that  sanctuary  of  the 
house  was  opened,  the  wife  would  rebuke  the  stupid  shoemaker  who 
should  bring  in  the  shoe  that  he  was  making,  and  his  last,  and  his  ham- 
mer, and  his  awls,  and  his  waxed-ends,  when  company  was  there,  and 
would  bundle  him  out  into  his  shop,  if  he  must  needs  do  such  work  ; 
as  the  cooper  would  never  entertain  company  while  working  at 
his  barrel,  behind  the  door,  or  in  the  corner ;  as  the  carpenter  would 
not  permit  himself  to  bring  his  planks,  and  planes,  and  saws,  and 
shavings  and  litter  into  the  parlor ;  as  the  parlor  in  the  family  is  kept 
for  higher  uses,  and  these  lower  uses  are  kept  out  of  it ;  so  it  is  to  be 
with  the  Sabbath  Day.  It  is  to  be  so  respected  and  esteemed  that 
all  common  occupations  shall  be  kept  out  of  it.  Keep  your  secular 
work  and  tools  and  diit  and  manufacturing  industries  out  of  Sunday. 
It  is  the  company-day.  It  is  the  Lord's  Day.  It  is  our  higher  man- 
hood's day.  And  let  us  forget  on  that  day  those  necessary  uses  to 
which  we  are  subject  during  the  other  six  days  of  the  week,  that  we 
may  give  a  chance  to  that  most  difficult  part  of  ourselves  to  cultivate, 
that  which  lives  by  feeding  on  the  invisible  kingdom  of  God.  It  is  not, 
then,  to  be  a  working  day. 

I  am  not  superstitious  on  this  subject.  If  a  man  is  walking  in  his 
garden  on  Sunday  morning,  and  sees  a  weed  or  two  that  had  before  es- 
caped his  notice,  and  he  stoops  down  and  plucks  those  weeds  up,  I 
do  not  think  he  need  turn  around  to  see  if  anybody  Is  looking  at  him. 
I  do  not  think  a  man  wUl  be  condemned  for  a  thing  like  that.     I  am 


OBSER VANCE  OF  THE  L ORD'8  DAT,  217 

not  so  superstitious  as  to  think  that  a  man  commits  a  heinous  offence 
if  he  Avorks  a  bit  on  Sunday.  It  would  have  been  regarded  so  in  the 
old  Jewish  times,  because  cessation  from  work  was  a  distinctive  pecu- 
liarity among  the  Jews.  With  them  the  Sabbath  was  not  a  religious 
day.  It  was  not  a  day  for  public  worship.  Eyen  in  the  earlier  periods 
of  the  Jewish  economy  it  was  absolutely  and  simply  a  day  in  which 
they  should  not  work.  They  might  talk,  and  laugh,  and  feast,  and  as- 
semble for  social  festivity,  but  they  must  not  work,  on  that  day.  It 
is  not  so  with  the  Lord's  day.  And  yet,  that  is  not  a  working 
day,  and  ought  not  to  be  a  working  day.  You  destroy  the  very 
characteristic  of  it  if  you  make  it  a  working  day.  It  is  meant  to  be 
the  one  day  in  which  a  man  shall  feel,  "  I  am  not  a  toiler ;  I  am  not 
a  worker ;  I  am  not  an  undei-ling ;  I  am  not  an  apprentice,  nor  a 
journeyman ;  I  am  not  a  man  on  wages ;  I  am  not  a  hired  man ;  I  am 
a  man.  And  this  day  is  my  own  day.  I  have  no  taskmaster  or  over- 
seer to-day.  I  am  my  own.  I  belong  to  my  wife,  to  my  children,  and 
to  my  neighbors,  in  my  high  and  generous  nature.  We  are  all  each 
other's.  This  is  God's  day,  and  therefore  it  is  mine.  And  my  head 
goes  up  as  high  as  it  can  reach.  I  am  not  to  crouch  to-day.  I  am  to 
walk  as  free  as  the  freest.  I  am  to  be  as  independent  as  the  most  inde- 
pendent." For  the  hand  of  the  Lord  has  once  in  every  seven  days 
marked  out  a  place,  twenty-four  hours  across  from  one  side  to  the 
other,  in  which  every  man  stands  like  every  other  man.  All  distinctions 
are  gone  on  that  day,  and  every  man  stands  simply  in  his  manhood, 
and  is  as  good  as  other  people — if  he  is  as  good ;   not  otherwise. 

Therefore,  when  I  say  that  Sunday  ought  not  to  be  a  working  day, 
I  say  it,  not  because  I  feel  that  we  are  to  be  superstitious  in  resj^ect  to 
single  acts  of  labor  on  that  day,  a  little  more  or  a  little  less,  but  be- 
cause I  perceive  that  if  we  undertake  to  drag  work  into  it,  we  cannot 
set  it  apart  from  all  other  days  distinctively,  and  make  it  that  honorable 
day,  with  badges  of  freedom  on  it,  which  it  was  designed  to  be.  A& 
the  parlor  is  degraded  if  you  drag  stable-wo%  or  shop-work  into  it,  so- 
the  Lord's  Day  is  degraded  if  you  make  it  a  ^y  of  toil. 

The  Lord  is  not  profited  by  it,  one  way  or  the  other.  The  angels 
are  in  no  way  profited  by  it.  They  do  not  care,  so  far  as  they  them- 
selves are  concerned.  It  is  your  day,  or  anybody  else's  day  who  is  in- 
terested in  it.  And  who  should  not  be  interested  in  it  ?  Who  is  sa 
much  interested  in  taking  care  of  a  house,  to  see  that  the  chimney  doe* 
not  smoke,  that  the  roof  does  not  leak,  that  the  windows  are  not  bro- 
ken, that  the  partitions  are  sound,  and  that  the  house  is  full  of  comfoit„ 
as  the  man  that  lives  in  it,  and  owns  it?  Now,  the  Sabbath  is  your 
day.  It  is  every  man's  day — especially  every  man's  who  wants  to  be 
stronger,  higher,  purer,  nobler  than  he   has  been,  or  is.     It  b  a  day 

k 


218  OBSERVANCE  OF  THE  LOED'S  DA  T. 

made  on  pui-pose  to  elevate  men.  It  is  not  a  day  designed  to  enable 
the  church  to  get  a  hitch  on  folks.  It  is  not  a  day  on  which  ecclesias- 
tical authorities  are  to  watch  men  with  jealousy.  It  is  the  common 
peoj^le's  great  liberty-day ;  and  they  are  bound  to  see  to  it  that  work 
does  not  come  into  it.  Not  because  work  is  dishonorable,  nor  because 
there  is  a  special  stigma  to  be  attached  to  working  on  Sunday,  but  be- 
cause they  cannot  make  it  what  it  ought  to  be  for  them  if  they  do  suf- 
fer work  to  come  into  it.  Work  is  to  be  kept  out  of  Sunday  because 
it  does  not  belong  there. 

There  is  no  better  rule  on  this  subject,  I  think,  than  the  old  one, 
that  works  of  necessity  and  mercy  are  permissible  on  the  Sabbath,  and 
no  others ;  that  whatever  work  is  necessary  for  the  real  comfort  and 
sustenance  of  the  household,  and  for  the  relief  of  persons  that  are  re- 
ally suffering,  may  be  performed  on  Sunday,  and  that  all  other  work  is 
out  of  place  on  that  day. 

I  shall  not  go  into  a  hundred  questions  which  will  arise — particu- 
lai;ly  such  as  those  which  relate  to  times  of  war,  or  sudden  emergen- 
cies of  industry.  Now  and  then  in  war,  the  Sabbath  has  to  give 
way  for  the  tune  being;  but  the  exigency  must  be  special  and 
temporary  to  justify  it.  Everybody  ought  to  feel  interested  in  not 
finding  occasions  to  work  on  Sunday.  Everybody  should  feel  about 
Sunday  as  he  feels  about  his  parlor.  A  man  does  not  go  round  with  a 
pitchfork  full  of  hay  or  manure,  and  look  wistfully  through  the  window 
of  his  parlor,  and  say,  "  Why  cannot  I  just  throw  it  in  there  for  a  little 
while  ?"  He  does  not  want  to  throw  it  in  there.  He  is  proud  of  his 
parlor,  and  does  not  want  to  desecrate  it.  And  working  men  ought 
not  to  go  round  saying,  "  Cannot  I  have  a  little  time  for  work  on  Sun- 
day morning  ?  Cannot  I  pinch  off  a  half  hour  for  work  on  Sunday 
night  ?  May  I  not  get  in  that  hay  that  is  out,  and  is  liable  to  get 
wet  %"  I  have  noticed  that  when  farmers  had  made  up  their  mind  that 
it  was  right  to  get  in  a  crop  on  Sunday  if  it  was  likely  to  suffer,  they 
would  always  manage  to  have  crops  out  on  Saturday ;  and  I  have 
noticed  that  when  a  man  says,  "  I  will  suffer  my  whole  harvest  to  per- 
ish before  I  will  put  one  single  head  of  wheat  in  on  Sunday,"  he  never 
leaves  anything  out  on  Saturday  that  would  be  damaged  if  it  should 
rain  on  Sunday.  And  it  is  every  man's  interest,  as  I  shall  show  before 
I  get  through — and  the  working-man's  interest,  more  than  anybody's 
else — not  only  to  make  this  day  a  day  of  lordly,  noble  rest,  instead 
of  finding  every  possible  excuse  for  cheating  it,  but  to  keep  it  clear  of 
toil  and  work.  Every  man  not  only  ought  to  make  the  Sabbath  a  day 
of  rest,  but  he  ought  to  arrange  his  affairs  during  the  week  so  that 
(there  shall  seldom,  if  ever,  be  any  necessity  for  work  on  that  day.  And 
thus  the  influence  of  Sunday  should  be  to  cultivate  habits  of  prudence 
and  self-deniaL 


OBSERVANCE  OF  TEE  LOItD'8  DAT.  219 

By  the  same  nile,  the  Sabbath  is  not  to  be  a  day  of  locomotion 
and  travel — certainly  not  in  the  way  of  pleasure.  I  do  not  think  the 
Lord's  Day  is  broken  in  si^irit,  or  that  anything  is  given  up,  by  a  man 
who  travels  on  the  Sabbath  day,  if  he  has  good  and  sufficient  reasons 
for  it ;  but  that  absurd  m.ixiui,  "  The  better  the  day  the  better  the 
deed,"  applied  as  it  is  by  many  persons,  who  start  on  a  journey  on 
Saturday  in  order  to  gain  one  day,  or  by  many  persons  who,  when 
away  from  home,  manage  to  start  so  as  to  be  on  the  road  on  Sunday 
in  order  to  save  a  day,  cannot  be  too  strongly  condemned.  All  these 
little  devices  by  which  men  rob  themselves  ot  Sunday  are  most 
unwise. 

If  Sunday  were  a  day  to  be  dreaded,  if  it  were  a  prison  that  you 
wanted  to  escape  from,  and  you  could,  by  some  device  of  this  sort,  get 
clear  of  it,  you  might  resort  to  such  expedients  with  propriety  ;  but 
what  kind  of  a  Sunday  have  you  had,  that  you  want  to  get  out  of  it  ? 
"What  associations  have  you  had  with  the  Lord's  Day,  that  it  should 
seem  desirable  to  you  to  go  where  there  is  no  bell  that  calls  you ; 
whei"e  there  is  no  assembly  that  draws  you  ;  where  there  is  no  house- 
hold ?  How  is  it  that  to  you  the  Lord's  Day  is  not  more  radiant  than 
any  other  day  of  the  week  ?  What  kind  of  a  home  has  Christianity  built 
for  you,  if  on  Sunday  you  want  to  be  away  from  it  ?  It  ought  to  be  a 
day  when  every  child  is  homesick  for  home.  It  ought  to  be  a  day  on 
which,  of  all  others,  men  shall  say,  "  Oh,  wretched  me !  that  there 
should  be  such  a  misarrangement  of  things  that  I  must  be  on  the  sea 
on  the  Lord's  day,  when  ^  fain  would  be  in  the  Lord's  house."  Sun- 
day should  be  filled  with  such  sweet  occupations,  and  there  should  be 
in  it  so  much  liberty  and  joy,  shaken  down  from  the  tree  of  life,  that 
all  through  one's  experience  he  should  feel,  "  Of  all  the  days  of  the 
week,  Sunday  for  me  !" 

I  shall  have  occasion  to  criticise  the  ways  In  which  Christian  pa- 
rents bring  up  their  children  in  this  matter,  a  little  further  on. 

I  am  not  superstitious  in  regard  to  traveling  on  Sunday,  any  more 
than  I  am  in  regard  to  Avorking  on  Sunday.  I  do  not  think  that  God 
will  stiike  a  man  with  lightning  because  he  travels  two  or  three  hours 
Sunday  morning.  Above  all,  I  ridicule,  as  being  more  pharisaic  than 
they  were  who  lived  two  thousand  years  ago,  that  man  who  travels  till 
twelve  o'clock  on  Saturday  night,  but  not  one  minute  longer,  because 
that  would  be  breaking  the  Sabbath.  Are  we  under  principles,  or  are 
we  under  rides  ?  Are  we  men,  or  are  we  children  yet  ?  I  say.  If  in 
the  exigencies  of  providence,  a  man  is  forced  to  do  some  traveling  on 
the  Sabbath  Day,  let  him  hold  his  head  up,  and  not  go  around  thi-ough 
some  lane  or  back  road.  Let  him  go  straight  along  the  thoroughfare, 
and  act  as  though  he  knew  the  day,  and  loved  it  as  much  as  anybody 


220  OBSEEVANCE  OF  THE  LOIiD'S  DAT, 

else.  And  yet,  it  is  every  man's  interest  that  there  shall  be  as  little 
rumbling  of  carriages,  and  as  little  of  the  thunder  of  cars,  on  the  Sab- 
bath, as  possible ;  and  that  men  shall,  as  far  as  possible,  arrange  their 
affairs  so  as  not  to  be  caught  traveling  on  that  day.  Why  should  you 
want  to  make  your  parlor  a  highway "?  Would  you  like  to  have  a 
stage  driven  through  your  house  ?  Would  you  like  to  have  a  proces- 
sion sweep  through  your  choicest  apartment  ?  Sunday  is  your  rest- 
room,  your  guest-chamber,  your  sweet  and  blessed  sanctuary  ;  and  why 
should  you  want  to  break  it  up,  or  unfit  it  for  its  legitimate  use  ?  It 
ought  to  be  a  delight,  and  not  a  thoroughfare  or  barn  for  horses  to 
tramp  in. 

It  is  not,  either,  to  be  a  visiting  day,  in  any  such  sense  as  shall 
identify  it  with  other  days.  For  you  will  observe  that  all  the  way 
through  I  am  trying  to  carry  out  this  idea  that  Sunday  is  to  be  a  day 
set  apart  from  all  others,  so  that  people  shall  feel  that  it  is  better, 
higher  and  nobler  than  ordinary  days.  Now,  visiting  is  right  on  Sun- 
day. There  may  be  circumstances  in  which  that  is  the  best  use  to 
make  of  the  day.  But  I  put  it  to  your  conscience — for  there  are  no 
rules  that  men  cannot  go  around,  or  yet  get  through,  just  as  there  are 
no  fences  that  unruly  cattle  cannot  jump  over  or  break  down.  And  if 
you  want  to  spoil  your  Sunday,  if  you  are  bound  to  make  an  unprofit- 
able day  of  it,  you  need  not  take  much  pains.  You  can  do  it,  in  spite 
of  all  the  preaching  or  other  moral  influences  that  can  be  brought  to 
bear  to  make  it  what  it  should  be.  And  if  you  want  to  make  it  a 
beautiful  day,  you  can  do  that.  So  that,  in  the  matter  of  visiting,  the 
question  is  not,  "  May  I,  or  may  I  not,  visit  on  Sunday  ?"  The  ques- 
tion is,  "  What  sort  of  visiting  will  make  this  day  elect  and  precious  ? 
What  kind  of  communion  with  my  fellows  will  make  this  day  most 
pleasant  and  profitable  ?"  We  should  avoid  such  visiting  as  will  take 
away  sanctity  and  beauty  from  the  Sabbath.  And  yet  there  is  Sunday 
visiting  which  is  not  improper.  For  instance,  it  is  often  the  case  that 
we  may  open  our  house  as  a  sanctuary,  especially  in  circumstances 
where  persons  come  to  the  house  of  God  and  need  hospitality.  Such 
visiting  is  not  sinful,  either  on  the  part  of  the  one  who  extends 
the  hospitality,  or  on  the  part  of  the  one  that  accepts  it.  It  is  to  make 
one's  house  indeed  a  true  sanctuary.  The  Lord's  Day  is  just  the  day 
for  such  uses.  To  the  aged,  the  weary,  the  friendless,  and  those  from 
distant  places  who  seek  profit  in  the  sanctuary  of  the  Lord,  it  is  emi- 
nently proper  for  us  to  extend  hospitality  on  the  Sabbath.  I  have 
known  a  minister  to  go  and  preach  on  Sunday  in  some  new  and  distant 
parish,  where  there  was  such  delicacy  of  conscience  and  such  scrupu- 
losity about  visiting,  or  inviting  visitors,  that  he  saw  every  man, 
woman,  and  child  pass  out  at  the  dooi*,  and  repaii'  to  theii"  various 


OBSERVANCE  OF  TUE  LOIiD'S  BAY.  221 

homes,  and  leave  him  to  go  without  any  dinner.  Nobody  so  much  as 
asked  him  to  go  in  and  break  bread.  This  is  being  over-scrupulous 
on  the  subject  of  visiting.  I  think  that  where  men  need  hospitality, 
Sunday  is  the  day  for  it,  above  all  others. 

It  is  also  a  good  day  for  coming  home.  It  is  a  good  day  for  child- 
ren to  return  to  their  father's  house.  Or,  if  they  are  so  lixr  away  that 
they  cannot  go  home,  it  is  a  good  day  for  them  to  write  their  letters 
home.  I  was  not  allowed  to  do  it  when  I  was  a  boy,  so  strict  were 
the  notions  of  that  time ;  but  I  bring  my  children  up  to  do  it — and  on 
the  ground  that  home  is  church.  It  is  God's  church.  Father  and 
mother  are  priests  before  all  other  priests  on  this  earth.  And  that 
which  will  make  my  children  think  of  me,  and  mother,  and  home,  and 
make  them  long  for  home,  and  make  them  sweetly  homesick,  is  a 
means  of  grace  to  them,  and  will  do  them  good.  If  our  childi-en  are 
so  near  that  they  can  come  home,  let  them  come ;  but  if  they  are  so  far 
off  that  they  cannot  come  home,  let  them  send  their  love  and  yearn- 
ing, and  tell  us  how  it  fares  with  them.  Make  Sunday  a  home-day. 
Make  it  such  a  day  that  when  your  children  are  at  home  they  would 
rather  be  in  their  father's  house  than  anywhere  else,  and  that  when 
they  are  away  from  home  they  are  homesick.  Blessed  are  the  home- 
sick !  It  is  a  good  testimony  to  father  and  mother  that  their  children 
are  homesick.  You  need  not  be  afraid  of  a  child's  desecrating  the 
Sabbath  when  it  lifts  itself  up  in  his  love  and  memory  all  his  life  long. 
"  Ah !  that  was  a  precious  day  when  I  could  get  back  to  the  city,  and 
hear  my  mother  read  stories  out  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  hear 
my  father  and  my  old  uncle  discuss  matters  of  religion.  What  a  good 
time  I  had  when  I  went  home  on  Sunday !"  I  like  to  hear  children 
bear  this  testimony — and  all  the  more  because  I  cannot. 

There  were  too  many  of  us  in  my  father's  family.  There  were 
eleven  children,  and  the  father  and  mother  could  not  take  care  of 
us  all.  And  of  course  it  was  the  younger  ones  that  had  the 
authority  without  the  communion.  The  older  children,  I  have  no 
doubt,  in  this  commerce  of  thought  and  feeling,  had  a  happy  time.  My 
happy  time  was  very  much  marred  by  Catechism.  There  was  that 
sandbar  right  across  the  mouth  of  the  family,  and  I  ran  upon  it  every 
Sunday ;  and  there  I  stuck !  Nobody,  I  suppose,  had  the  idea  that 
every  person  in  the  family  ought  to  be  made  happy  on  Sunday.  Yes, 
old  Aunt  Chandler  had.  She  used  to  tuck  me  up  in  her  great  lap  (she 
had  a  lap  big  enough  for  a  city  to  couch  down  on,)  and  wrap  me  in 
her  apron,  and  pat  me,  and  talk  to  me,  in  her  great  round,  mellow, 
good  voice,  when  I  had  lost  my  supper  because  I  did  not  know  my 
Catechism.     The  fact  is,  I  have  never  known  it  from  that  day  to  this ! 

So  there  is  an  element  of  bondage,  or  restraint,  in  my  memory  of 


222  OBSEEVANCE  OF  THE  LORD'S  DAY. 

the  family.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  all  this,  that  Sunday  of  my  childhood ; 
the  marvelous  stillness  of  that  day  over  all  Litchfield  town  hill ;  that 
wondrous  ringing  of  the  bell ;  that  strange  interpretation  that  my  young 
imagination  gave  to  the  crowing  of  the  cock,  and  to  the  singing  of  the 
birds ;  that  wondeiing  look  which  I  used  to  have  into  things ;  that 
strange  lifting  halfway  up  into  inspiration,  as  it  were;  that  sense  of 
the  joyful  influence  that  sometimes  brooded  down  like  a  stormy  day, 
and  sometimes  opened  up  like  a  gala  day  in  summer,  on  me,  made 
Sunday  a  more  effectually  marked  day  than  any  other  of  all  my  youth- 
ful life  ;  and  it  stands  out  as  clear  as  crystal  until  this  hour.  It  might 
have  been  made  happier  and  better  if  there  had  been  a  little  more  adap- 
tation to  my  disposition  and  my  wants ;  but,  with  all  its  limitations,  I 
would  rather  have  the  other  six  days  of  the  week  weeded  out  of  my 
memory,  than  the  Sabbath  of  my  childhood.  And  this  is  right.  Every 
child  ought  to  be  so  brought  up  in  the  family  that  when  he  thinks  of 
home,  the  first  spot  on  which  his  thought  rests  shall  be  Sunday,  as  the 
culminating  joy  of  the  household. 

While,  then,  I  would  not  lay  down  any  rigorous  rule,  nor  attempt 
to  hold  you  to  any  mechanical  notions  in  the  matter  of  visiting,  I  would 
say,  The  Sabbath  Day  is  to  be  made  special,  and  separate  from  all 
other  days  ;  and  you  are  to  determine  what  is  best  in  the  matter  of  vis- 
itation on  Sunday  by  a  consideration  of  what  will  make  this  day  most 
eminent  in  its  influence  upon  you  and  your  children,  by  way  of  refining 
you,  and  lifting  you  up  above  the  vulgarities  of  life.  If  visiting  will 
do  it,  you  have  a  right  to  visit.  If  not,  you  have  no  right  to  visit.  For 
your  business  is  to  build  up  a  Sunday,  and  a  good  one — one  full  of  sun- 
light and  air,  and  not  full  of  sordidness  and  common  pleasures  and  vul- 
gar passions. 

It  is  in  the  light  of  this  attempt  to  make  the  Lord's  Day  a  special 
day  of  beauty,  and  joy,  and  honor,  and  delight,  that  we  can  perhaps 
discuss  the  question  that  is  so  much  mooted  as  to  walking  out,  and  go- 
ing on  excursions,  and  seeking  amusement  on  the  Sabbath.  I  am  de- 
cidedly in  favor  of  walking  out  on  the  Lord's  Day,  with  moderation, 
for  a  hundred  reasons.  First,  because  health  seems  to  require  that  one 
should  have  some  exercise  in  the  fresh  air ;  and  second,  because  if  one 
is  trained  aright,  nature  is  itself  a  means  of  grace.  The  influences  ol 
the  garden,  the  orchard  and  the  field,  may  cooperate  with  the  direct 
moral  instruction  Avhich  children  receive  in  the  household,  and  power- 
fully corroborate  it.  But  this  is  to  be  guarded.  It  is  not  to  be  a  source 
of  temptation.  The  children  are  not  to  be  sent  by  themselves  to  the 
fields  where  they  will  be  tempted  more  than  they  are  able  to  bear.  If 
this  is  done,  it  is  to  be  done  ^^ith  discretion,  and  on  principle.  It  is  to 
be  done  with  the  idea  that  every  child  is,  in  its  own  way,  not  to  pull 


OBSERVANCE  OF  THE  LORD'S  DAT.  223 

do^vn  Sunday,  but  to  try  to  lift  it  up.     Children  are  to  understand  tliat 
whatever  they  do  is  to  make  that  day  noble,  beautiful,  salient. 

So  far  as  the  working  classes  are  concerned,  it  may  be  occasionally 
tine  that  the  Lord's  Day  should  be  a  day  to  take  them  out  from  the 
murky  neighborhood  where  they  live ;  from  the  filth,  and  unvcntila- 
tion,  and  inconvenience  of  theii'  surroundings ;  from  the  shop,  the  at- 
tic, the  cellar.  It  has  been  sti'ongly  urged  that  it  is  wise  that  tlicre 
should  be  excursions  down  the  bay,  and  up  the  river ;  that  there  should 
be  extra  railroad  trains ;  that  the  lower  poj^ulation  of  the  city  should 
once  a  Aveek  be  emptied  into  the  country  ;  that  it  is  a  great  deal  bettei* 
that  they  should  seek  recreation  out  of  the  city  than  that  they  should 
stay  at  home,  on  Sunday.  And  if  that  were  the  only  alternative,  I 
should  say  so  too.  But  it  is  not  the  only  alternative.  When  men  say 
that  these  excursions  are  a  substitute  for  religious  instruction,  I  deny 
it.  When  it  is  said  that  occasionally  they  may  alternate  with,  or  co- 
operate with,  other  social  means  of  enjoying  the  Sabbath  Day,  I  do  not 
feel  so  much  set  against  them  as  many  are.  I  do  so  love  the  open  aii"; 
I  do  so  love  the  country ;  I  see  so  much  of  God  in  it ;  I  have  been  so 
much  blessed  myself  by  it,  that  I  find  it  hard  to  say  to  any  poor  work- 
ing man,  "  You  shall  never  breathe  the  mountain-air,  nor  see  the 
stream,  nor  hear  the.  singing  of  birds  uncaged  and  flying  free  and 
"wide  abroad."  I,  that  am  put  above  necessities  and  wants;  I,  that  can 
control  my  time ;  I,  that  can  go  out  on  Monday  and  hear  all  that 
God  says,  and  see  all  that  God  does  in  the  field — have  I  a  right  to  turn 
to  my  brother,  who  is  less  fortunate  than  I  am,  and  use  my  liberty  as  a 
despotism,  and  say  to  him,  "  You  shall  not  hear  and  see  those  things." 
If  he  says,  "I  am  not  my  own  on  Mofeiay,  nor  Tuesday,  nor  Wed- 
nesday, nor  Thursday,  nor  Friday,  nor  "Saturday;  my  time  is  bouofht 
and  paid  for ;  I  am  under  wage ;  Sunday  is  the  only  day  which  I  have 
to  myself;  and  if  I  may  not  on  that  day  go  to  the  country  and  breathe 
the  fresh  an-,  and  hear  the  birds,  I  never  can,"  then  I  have  nothing  to 
eay.  I  take  the  workingraan's  side,  to  a  certain  extent.  But  then,  stop ! 
Seeing  the  country  and  hearing  birds  is  very  well ;  but  a  man  must 
learn  hoio  to  see  and  hear  them.  And  that  he  does  not  learn  by  goino- 
out  with  a  hundred  others,  who  are  rough,  uncouth,  uninstructed.  I 
take  comfort  in  these  things,  because  I  have  a  Sabbath,  a  sanctuary, 
and  a  closet  for  prayer.  It  is  the  sj)iritual  clement  that  has  taught  me 
to  see  nature  in  such  a  way  that  it  is  a  pleasure  and  benefit  to  me.  But 
little  enjoyment  do  they  have  in  taste  who  have  not  been  educated  in 
their  moral  sentiments.  What  they  need  is  more,  not  less,  open  air  in 
the  country ;  but  first  they  need  the  means  of  interpreting  what  they 
see  there.  And  although  their  attics  are  bad,  and  their  cellars  are  dark 
and  unwholesome,  you  can  do  the  laboring  classes  no  other  service  half 


224  OBSERVANCE  OF  THE  LORD'S  DAT. 

so  gi-eat  as  when,  on  Sunday,  you  inspire  thera  with  more  desire  to 
learn ;  with  more  manliness ;  with  more  spirituality. 

I  would  rather,  a  thousand  times,  see  rightly  guarded  and  rightly 
placed  reading-rooms  established  for  working  men,  where,  on  Sunday, 
they  would  be  brought  into  commerce  with  books  and  papers,  and 
with  people  who  could  give  them  instruction,  than  to  send  them  by 
cars  into  the  countiy  on  Sunday,  good  as  that  may  be  in  many  respects. 
What  they  need,  first  of  all  things,  is  spiritual  religious  instruction. 
Manliness,  founded  on  the  control  of  the  passions  and  appetites ;  moral- 
ity ;  virtue ;  true  piety — that  is  the  making  of  any  man.  That  is  the 
making  of  communities.  Let  men  have  that.  Do  not  sacrifice  that 
for  the  sake  of  giving  them  fresh  air  in  the  country.  If  the  two  could 
be  blended — if  they  could  have  the  opportunity  of  the  day  in  the  sanc- 
tuary and  the  opportunity  of  the  day  in  the  country — I  think  it  would 
be  better ;  though  I  do  not  know  as  that  would  be  practicable. 

I  am  very  much  opposed,  however,  to  the  attempt  to  maintain 
Sunday  as  against  the  poor.  I  set  my  face  against  the  attempt  to  main- 
tain it  for  rich  folks,  and  make  it  a  bondage  for  poor  folks.  When 
they  wanted  to  run  the  cars  on  Sunday  in  the  city,  I  would  not  sign  a 
petition  against  it.  It  was  urged  as  a  reason  why  they  should  not  run, 
that  so  many  men — conductoi's  and  drivers — were  kept  working.  That 
might  be  regulated  better.  With  some  more  instruction  and  some 
more  impulse  in  the  direction  of  humanity,  the  managers  of  our  roads 
could  probably  so  order  the  time  that  every  man  should  at  least  have 
every  other  Sunday,  and  a  part  of  each  Sunday.  And  so  a  remedy 
could  be  largely  effected. 

But  would  you  sign  a  petition  that  no  man  should  ride  to  church 
in  his  coach  %  How  many  of  you  would  sign  such  a  petition  ?  I  have 
no  doubt  that  I  could  take  a  petition  that  the  running  of  the  cars  on 
Sunday  should  be  stopped,  and  get  many  of  you  to  sign  it ;  but  if  I 
were  to  take  another  petition  that  no  man  should  ride  to  church  in  his 
coach,  I  do  not  believe  I  could  get  a  man  here  to  sign  it — unless  he  was 
a  very  poor  man.  The  poor  might  sign  against  the  rich  man's  coach, 
and  the  rich,  not  thinking,  perhaps,  would  sign  against  the  only  coach 
that  the  poor  man  can  ride  in.  A  man  wants  to  come  to  Plymouth 
Church  (a  good  place  to  come  to)  from  out  of  town  ;  but  he  has  no  way 
to  come  except  to  ride  in  the  common  people's  coach.  Another  man 
wants  to  go  out  into  the  country  to  attend  service  at  some  village 
church,  or  to  visit  his  father  and  mother,  or  uncle  or  aunt.  I  do  not 
say  that  it  is  the  best  thing  that  could  happen ;  but  with  the  fear  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  before  me,  I  never  would  put  my  pen  on  paper  to 
restrict  the  privileges  of  the  poor  laboring  classes  while  I  did  not  place 
any  restriction  upon  the  privileges  of  rich  folks.     When  a  man  drives 


OBSERVANCE  OF  TUE  LORD'S  BAY.  225 

a  Cfir  on  Sunday,  ho,  for  the  sake  of  accomnioJatinjr  perhaps  a  hundred 
or  two  hunthed  other  persons,  loses  half  a  day.  When  a  man  diives  a 
coach,  he  loses  half  a  day  for  the  sake  of  accommodating  five.  And 
nobody  seems  to  think  there  is  any  hardship  in  the  latter  case,  though 
a  great  many  think  there  is  great  hardship  in  the  former  case.  If  a 
man  is  so  rich  that  he  has  horses  and  a  coach,  and  a  driver  to  bring  him 
to  church,  people  think  it  all  right;  but  the  moment  a  man  is  so  poor 
that  he  cannot  come  to  church  unless  he  rides  on  a  car  where  a  driver 
and  a  conductor  carry  two  hundred  people,  they  think  it  is  a  desecra- 
tion of  the  Sabbath.  Tliey  ui-ge  that  it  is  the  Lord's  Day,  and  ought 
not  to  be  broken.  I  take  the  poor  man's  side,  and  say  that  Sunday 
was  not  meant  to  be  an  oppressive  day.  It  was  not  meant  to  be  a 
yoke.  It  was  meant  to  make  the  poor  man  freer.  And  it  is  to  be  so 
zealously  hedged  in  and  kept,  that,  of  all  the  days  of  the  week  it  shall 
be  a  humane,  free  day.  While  I  take  sides  with  the  poor,  and  while 
I  seem  to  many  to  be  lax,  I  appeal  to  every  working  man  who  hears 
me,  whether  Sunday  is  not  needed.  It  is  his  necessity.  It  is  not 
mine,  particularly.  I  can  take  care  of  myself,  and  other  men  that  are 
prospered  in  life  can  take  care  of  themselves.  All  days  of  the  week, 
to  them,  are  more  or  less  days  of  leisure,  and  are  Sundays  in  some 
sense.  But  the  working  people  have  no  leism'e  day  except  Sunday  ; 
and  they  are  the  ones  that  must  not  put  their  foot  upon  it  to  destroy 
it.  They  are  the  ones  that  must  not  let  it  run  to  carnal  pleasure. 
They  are  the  ones  that  must  not  let  travel  break  over  it  needlessly. 
They  must  not,  for  the  sake  of  a  misunderstood  liberty,  pull  it  down. 
It  is  a  bulwark  between  them  and  oppression  ;  and  oftentimes  a  bul- 
wark between  them  and  the  church. 

We  fail  to  keep  the  Lord's  Day  when  it  is  not  generous  enough  to 
take  in  all  the  conditions  of  rich  and  poor,  old  and  young,  refined  and 
coarse,  religious  and  worldly.  The  Lord's  Day  is  a  day  of  mercy.  It 
is  more  broken  by  rigor  without  sympathy,  than  it  is  by  mercy  with 
laxity.  And  it  was  here  that  Christ  had  his  conflict.  Many  have  sup- 
posed that  Christ  set  his  face  against  Sunday.  He  did  not.  lie  set 
his  face  against  a  perverse  use  of  it.  There  was  a  man  who  had  a 
withered  hand,  and  the  Pharisees  watched  Jesus  to  see  whether  he 
would  heal  it  on  the  Sabbath  day ;  and  no  sooner  did  he  see  that, 
than  he  said  to  the  man,  "  Stretch  forth  thine  hand.  And  he  stretched 
it  forth.  And  it  was  restored  whole  like  as  the  other."  Then  the  Phari- 
sees went  out  and  held  a  council  against  him,  and  said,  "  He  cannot  be 
of  God,  for  he  has  broken  the  Sabbath  day."  And  our  Master  said  to 
them,  "  Which  of  you,  having  an  ox,  doth  not  loose  him  and  lead  him 
away  to  water?  Or  who  is  there  among  you  that,  having  a  8hee[)  that 
has  fallen  into  a  ditch,  will  not  straightway  take  hold  of  it  and  get  it 


226  OBSERVANCE  OF  THE  LORD'S  DAY. 

out  T  He  took  them  on  their  own  permissions,  and  said,  "  You  show 
humanity  to  a  beast ;  is  not  a  man  more  than  a  beast  ?"  He  said  that 
to  heal  a  man  on  Sunday  was  not  to  break  that  day.  He  declared  ex- 
plicitly— and  it  is  a  Magna  Charta — "  The  Sabbath  was  made  for 
man,  and  not  man  for  the  Sabbath."  Sunday  is  not  something  in  and 
of  itself  so  beautiful  and  sacred  that  men  must  be  sacrificed  for  the 
sake  of  keeping  it.  No  ;  manhood  is  the  highest  thing  in  this  world. 
No  government  is  equal  in  value  to  manhood.  No  law  is  of  any  value 
compared  with  manhood.  No  custom  is  of  any  worth  compared  with 
manhood.  No  institution,  no  prayer,  no  song,  no  sermon,  no  service, 
no  Sabbath,  no  anything,  can  be  compared  with  it  for  value.  Where 
men  are  brought  up  side  by  side  with  the  institutions  and  usages  which 
educate  them,  and  one  or  the  other  must  be  sacrificed,  save  the  man 
and  sacrifice  the  usage,  no  matter  what  it  is.  And  so,  where  a  man 
was  to  be  healed  on  the  Sabbath  day,  and  it  would  break  Sunday 
according  to  men's  ideas,  Christ  broke  it,  not  because  he  thought  it 
a  bad  day,  nor  because  he  thought  all  days  ought  to  be  alike,  as  some 
have  misreasoned,  but  because  he  wanted  to  teach  that  Sunday  was 
best  kept  when  it  was  used  to  make  men  bettei-,  happier,  nobler,  freer. 
The  very  thing  for  which  Sunday  was  made  was  to  serve  men. 

In  all  our  legislation,  in  all  our  debates,  it  is  not  enough  for  us  to 
take  an  old  word,  a  historical  term,  an  ancient  argument.  We  are  to 
look  at  the  way  in  which  men  are  living  to-day.  We  must  take  ac- 
count of  what  their  trials  and  exigencies  are.  And  in  our  observance 
of  the  Sabbath  day  we  are  to  bring  it  into  sympathy  with  all  classes 
and  conditions  of  men.  If  there  is  any  place  where  the  Sabbath  is  to 
be  loosened,  it  is  not  at  the  top,  but  at  the  bottom.  It  is  not  where 
men  are  prosperous.  It  is  not  where  families  are  largely  built.  It  is 
not  where  the  household  is  already  like  a  palace.  The  Sabbath  must 
be  so  arranged  and  kept  that  the  poor,  the  needy,  the  scattered,  the 
outlying,  the  most  necessitous,  shall  have  its  mercy  and  compassion. 
It  must  be  a  light  shining  on  their  darkness,  and  a  help  to  save  them, 
or  else  it  is  not  rightly  kept. 

A  negative  observance  of  the  Sabbath  is  as  imperfect  a  keeping  of 
it  as  there  can  Avell  be.  And  this  is  a  household  matter  largely.  Men 
and  women  having  children  growing  up  around  them  want  to  keep 
Sunday  in  the  family,  but  they  do  not  know  exactly  how  to  go  about 
it.  They  simply  feel  that  there  are  a  great  many  things  that  they  must 
not  do.  The  prevalent  idea  of  keeping  the  Sabbath  is  that  it  is  a  day 
on  which  certain  things  must  not  be  done.  There  are  about  twenty 
must-not-do-somethings.  It  is  not,  not,  not,  all  the  way  thi-ough.  To 
the  majority  of  people  Sunday  is  a  day  full  of  ne>ts. 

I  very  well  remember  my  own  childhood.    I  saw  something  funny, 


OBSEB VANCE  OF  TUE  L ORB'S  BAY.  227 

and  Lurst  out  laughing.  "  Henry,  you  must  not  laugh."  "  Why  must 
I  not  laugh  ?"  *'  Because  it  is  Sunday."  I  started  to  run.  "  Henry, 
you  must  not  run  ;  it  is  Sunday."  Something  attracted  my  attention, 
and,  following  a  natural  impulse,  I  pointed  my  finger  toward  it. 
"  Henry,  you  must  not  look  at  such  things ;  it  is  Sunday."  There  were 
a  few  books  in  the  house  that  I  miglit  read.  The  Bible  was  one,  the 
Catechism  was  anotlier,  and  there  were  several  other  Sunday  books. 
But  if  I  picked  up  Robinson  Crusoe,it  was,  "  Henry,  Henry,  you  must 
not  read  that  to-day."  That  eternal  must  not,  must  not,  m,ust  not,  fol 
lowed  me  everywhere.  I  Avas  jubilant,  emotive,  high-spirited  ;  and  i 
was  perpetually  being  pruned.  I  was  cut  down  here  and  there.  This 
branch  was  cut  ofi^,  and  that  blossom  was  cut  off.  They  cut  off  my 
head,  my  feet  and  my  hands.  And  I  would  fly  sometimes  like  an 
insect,  without  legs  or  wings ;  and  then  I  would  wonder  why  they  did 
not  do  something  else  to  me !  Sunday  was  a  daj'  of  restriction  to  me. 
I  was  tied  up.  Now,  I  do  not  say  that  children  ought  not  to  be  re- 
strained. They  ought  to  be.  But  where  you  are  restraining  childien, 
you  must  look  out  that  you  do  not  lose  the  thing  in  them  for  which 
you  are  restraining  them.  You  must  see  to  it  that  they  do  not  lose 
respect  for  the  Sabbath  thi-ough  the  feeling  that  it  is  a  prison-house 
instead  of  a  delight. 

"  Take  care,  my  child  ;  grandpa  will  be  disturbed."  "  Be  careful, 
my  son  ;  you  know  auntie  cannot  bear  a  noise."  The  child  is  all  the 
time  sacrificed  for  eveiybody  else.  He  is  sacrificed  for  '  pa',  for  '  ma',  for 
*  grandpa',  and  for  the  aunt  that  has  a  nervous  headache.  He  is  cuffed 
here  and  tiiere,  and  told  that  he  must  not  do  this  and  that.  He  can- 
not go  where  he  wants  to  go  ;  he  cannot  do  wliat  he  wants  to  do  ;  he 
cannot  see  what  he  wants  to  see.  He  is  like  a  punctuation  point  in  a 
printer's  case.  He  is  merely  ])ut  in  to  keep  sentences  and  parts  of 
sentences  a})art.  He  is  neither  a  sentence,  nor  a  word,  nor  a  letter. 
He  is  nothing  for  himself,  in  all  the  early  part  of  his  life.  And  he 
grows  u[)  with  a  dislike  for  the  Sabbath.  He  is  so  peppered  and  salt- 
ed with  the  feeling  that  it  is  a  day  of  bondage,  that  he  wishes  it  would 
not  come  more  than  once  a  month,  and  that  it  would  skip  at  that. 

I  remember  being  with  my  brotlier  Charles  by  the  window  in  the 
gi'eat  west  sitting  room,  one  Sunday  afternoon.  We  sat  watching  the 
sun.  There  was  a  hazy  horizon  so  that  we  could  look  right  at  tlie  great 
round,  good-natured  face  of  the  sun.  We  could  see  it  steadily  going 
down  ;  and  I  could  not  restrain  my  exultation  ;  and  I  said,  "  Oh, 
Charles  !  it  is  most  down  !"  Mother  (good  woman  as  ever  lived)  sat 
by  us,  and  said,  "  Boys  !  boys  !  you  ought  not  to  be  glad  that  Sunday  ia 
over."  I  knew  I  ought  not,  and  my  conscience  bc'gan  to  condemn  me. 
"  You  ought  to  wish  that  the  Sunday  might  be  longer."  *'  Yes,  ma'am." 


228        OBSER  VANCE  OF  THE  L  ORD'S  DA  Y, 

And  yet,  if  ever  a  boy  was  glad,  I  was  when  the  sun  did  get  down.  I 
would  say,  "  Yes,  nia'a'ni "  in  the  right  spot,  and  "  No,  ma'a'm,"  but, 
after  all,  there  was  my  boy  nature.  The  Sunday  had  not  made  rae  in 
love  with  it.  Could  it  be  made  attractive  to  me  ?  Yes,  very  easily. 
When  dear  old  Aunt  Esther  had  charge  of  the  house,  she  used  to  say, 
in  the  morning,  "  Now,  boys,  if  you  will  keep  quiet  all  this  morning, 
and  will  do  such  and  such  things,  as  quick  as  we  get  back  from  church 
I  will  read  to  you,  and  I  will  read  to  you  all  the  afternoon,  out  of  the 
Bible."  "Will  you  read  the  Ten  Plagues  ?"  "Yes,  the  Ten  Plagues, 
and  everything  else  you  want  to  hear."  On  that  promise  all  day  went 
right.  And  no  sooner  were  we  gathered  in  the  nursery  than  she  sat  us 
about  her  on  our  little  footstools,  and  put  on  her  spectacles,  and  took 
the  Bible  ;  and  we  heard  her  read  "  Joseph"  and  the  "  Ten  Plagues," 
and  the  beautiful  story  of  Ruth.  And  a  Sunday  spent  in  this  way  was 
never  lonesome.  Old  Aunt  Esther  knew  how  to  check  and  how  to 
humor  us ;  she  knew  when  to  let  us  out,  and  when  to  harness  us  ;  she 
was  sympathetic  and  kind ;  and  she  made  the  Sabbath  a  beautiful  day 
to  us.  And  really,  I  felt  like  being  a  little  boy  of  a  Christian  on  Sun- 
day when  I  used  to  be  under  Aunt  Esther's  discijoline. 

Every  father  and  mother  that  is  ordained  as  the  priest  of  God's 
church  in  the  household,  is  not  simply  bound  to  see  that  the  children 
do  not  play  on  Sunday.  Your  duty  only  begins  at  that  point.  Your 
business  is  to  build  up  a  Sunday  that  shall  be  a  delight  to  your  chil- 
di-en.  And  I  put  it  to  you,  my  friend — deacon,  class-leader,  Christian 
of  forty  years  standing — do  your  children  like  Sunday?  If  not,  what 
a  testimony  is  it !  If  on  the  contrary  you  have  brought  up  your  fam- 
ily so  that  they  like  Sunday ;  if  you  have  said  to  your  wife  and  them, 
"  How  shall  we  make  this  day  honorable  in  the  sight  of  God  ?"  and 
you  have  made  it  thus  honorable,  and  a  pleasure  and  a  benefit  to  your- 
selves ;  then  what  a  different  testimony  is  that !  Have  you  brought 
up  your  family  so  that  they  enjoy  the  Sabbath  day?  What  do  your 
children  say  about  it?  Would  you  like  to  have  me  question  them 
on  the  subject?  If  you  have  not  so  used  Sunday,  then  you  have  bro- 
ken it. 

We  ought  also  to  remember  that  on  the  Lord's  Day,  so  far  as  the 
services  of  the  community  are  concerned,  they  are  to  be  conducted 
with  reference  to  the  average  wants  of  the  people  in  that  community, 
and  are  not  to  be  oppressive  to  them. 

And  there  should  be  the  largest  liberty  in  things  right  and  proper. 
I  have  no  sympathy  with  the  idea  that  persons  must  not  talk  when  go- 
ing to  and  from  church.  I  say  to  people.  Talk  with  each  other  when 
you  are  coming  to  church.  Show  that  you  are  not  ice  nor  lead.  Be 
men.     Do  not  be  afraid  to  ask  after  each  other's  welfare,  and  after  the 


OBSERVANCE  OF  THE  LORD'S  DAY,  22D 

welfjire  of  each  other's  households.  Do  not  talk  business ;  and  yet, 
do  not  be  ashamed  to  say,  "  How  are  you  progressing  in  the  world  ?' 
You  are  God's  freemen,  and  not  the  church's  bondmen.  It  is  a  thou- 
sand times  better  for  you  to  show  feelings  of  sympathy  and  humanity 
and  real  interest  for  each  other  in  these  ways,  than  not  to  show  any  such 
feelings.  And  when  you  get  to  the  door  of  the  church,  do  not  stop  as 
though  you  Avere  going  into  a  sepulcher,  and  take  off  your  hat,  and 
come  in  with  a  long  sigh ;  but,  with  a  cheerful  face,  walk  up  the  aisle 
and  take  your  place.  Ah  !  if  your  God  is  a  crowned  despot,  you  may 
well  be  terrified  in  his  presence;  but  my  dear  God  is  my  Father,  my 
Lover,  my  Friend.  He  is  the  most  fiimiliar,  the  most  sympathetic,  the 
most  genial,  the  most  joyous  of  all  Beings.  What  there  is  of  light- 
ness and  of  sweetness  in  the  sunrise ;  what  there  is  of  sympathy  and 
gladness  in  the  heaven  and  on  the  earth,  is  the  outflow  of  his  great  na- 
ture, lie  is  the  God  of  all  joy  and  of  all  consolation.  What  he  wants, 
I  know  by  the  way  he  has  made  my  father  and  mother,  and  my  broth- 
ers and  sisters.  I  take  counsel  of  that  which  is  best  of  what  he  has 
put  into  me.  I  come  into  the  house  of  God  to  rejoice.  David  could 
have  taught  us  many  better  things  in  the  lore  of  the  sanctuaiy  than 
we  have  learned  where  asceticism  is  made  law,  and  where  men  go  into 
church  stifi"  and  solemn,  and  set  themselves  down  in  their  sepulchral 
pews,  and  do  not  look  about  them,  nor  speak  to  any  one.  I  say,  Talk, 
remembering  that  your  conversation  is  to  be  the  chastened  and  noble 
conversation  of  men  who  are  together  striving  to  make  this  one  day 
higher,  better,  brighter,  sweeter,  nobler,  than  all  the  other  days  of  the 
week.  And  when  the  services  of  the  house  of  God  are  over,  and  the 
congregation  are  dismissed,  I  would  not  have  you  go  still  out  into  the 
street  and  back  to  your  houses.  I  like  to  see  men  get  up  in  church 
and  shake  hands  over  the  back  of  the  pew,  and  speak  to  each  other  in 
the  aisles.  Let  your  feelings  manifest  themselves  through  lip  and  eye 
and  hand.  This,  while  it  is  a  more  joyful,  is  not  a  less  elevated  observ- 
ance of  the  Sabbath  Day.  And  it  will  be  fiir  more  likely  to  be  ob- 
served by  the  common  people,  and  especially  by  the  poor  and  needy,  if 
we  make  it  a  delight,  than  if  we  make  it  a  day  that  is  stiff  to  ourselves 
and  stupid  to  them. 

I  may  just  say,  in  passing,  that  they  likewise  fliil  to  keep  the  Lord's 
Day  who  tax  themselves  excessively  in  works  of  kindness.  I  mean  su- 
perintendents and  teachers  of  Sunday-schools,  and  teachers  of  Bible 
classes,  and  many  others  who  serve  in  religious  things  on  Sunday.  If 
the  work  of  the  Church  could  be  properly  distributed,  there  would  be 
only  a  little  for  each  one  to  do;  but  usually  the  majority  do  nothing, 
and  those  who  are  willing  to  work  do  more  than  they  ougl)t  to.  I  have 
known  persons  who  ai'ose  early  in  the  morning,  and  went  to  Sabbath- 


230  OBSERVANCE  OF  THE  LOED'S  DAY. 

Bcliool  in  the  forenoon,  and  then  went  to  church,  and  then  went  to 
another  Sabbath-school  in  the  afternoon,  and  then  went  to  a  prayer- 
meeting  after  that,  and  went  to  evening  services  after  that,  and  then 
went  to  bed.  And  that  is  breaking  Sunday,  I  do  not  care  who  does  it. 
It  is  making  it,  instead  of  a  day  of  rest,  the  day  of  the  severest  labor 
of  the  whole  week.  And  as  a  general  thing  persons  are  not  justified 
in  over-taxing  themselves  in  such  ways.  I  think  that  ministers  break 
the  Sabbath  and  impair  their  usefulness  by  over-exerting  themselves. 
There  may  be  emergencies  in  which  a  man  is  called  to  preach  three  or 
four  times  on  a  Sunday.  Many  would  suppose  that  one  was  peculiarly- 
apostolic  who  did  SO;  but,  ordinarily  si)eakiiig,  emergencies  out  of  the 
way,  a  minister  shoiild  not  preach  more  than  twice  in  a  single  day — 
and  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  once  would  be  better  yet.  As  it  is,  he 
has  no  Sunday  to  himself  The  Lord's  Day  is  a  day  of  bondage  to  him. 
It  is  to  him  a  day  of  the  hardest  tasks,  when  it  should  be  a  day  of  free- 
dom and  happiness  and  joy  to  him. 

It  may  be  asked,  "  Is  it  not  better  that  every  day  should  be  a  Sun- 
day. Why  attempt  to  set  a  special  day  apart  from  all  the  rest  ?  Would 
it  not  be  better  if  all  days  were  alike,  and  all  days  were  high  and  no- 
ble ?"  That  is  not  the  question.  The  question  is  this :  Is  it  possible 
for  you  to  lift  all  the  days  of  the  week  up  so  that  they  shall  average  as 
high  as  one  day  which  is  set  apart  for  special  observance  ?  I  can  under- 
stand how  persons  of  culture,  of  leisure,  and  training,  may  come  into 
such  a  state  of  mind  that  all  the  days  of  the  week  shall  be  supremely 
blessed  to  them  ;  but  I  know  that  most  men  are  so  circumstanced  that 
it  is  simply  impossible  for  them  to  do  it.  And  to  undertake  to  obliter- 
ate the  Sabbath  day  by  making  all  days  Sundays,  is  to  substitute  des- 
potism for  the  few  privileges  that  are  secured  to  men  through  that  day. 
You  take  away  all  the  Sunday  which  men  can  observe,  if  you  give 
them  only  a  distributive  Sunday  running  through  the  whole  week. 

Nay,  all  days  cannot  be  made  alike — can  they  ?  Yes,  they  can 
to  me,  if  I  am  in  the  receipt  of  an  independent  income,  and  I  can  com- 
mand my  time,  and  I  can  take  part  of  each  day  for  meditation,  and  ) 
can  go  where  I  please  on  any  day,  and  stay  as  long  as  I  please ;  but 
how  about  the  apprentice  boy  who  is  waked  up  at  five,  or  four,  or  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  goes  to  work,  and  has  not  a  moment  that 
he  can  call  his  own  until  eight  o'clock  at  night,  when  he  tumbles  into 
bed,  and  sleeps  till  the  next  morning,  when  he  again  goes  through  the 
same  experience,  which  is  his  experience  the  whole  week  ?  Go  and 
talk  to  him  about  making  every  day  a  Sunday.  It  is  these  well-to-do, 
plump,  round-faced,  smiling  people  who  talk  about  making  eveiy  day 
a  Sunday.  But  the  great  mass  of  people — the  poorer  orders  of  society — 
those  who  are  under  the  control  of  others,  and  on  whom  the  hard  tasks 
of  life  fall — they  cannot  afford  to  have  all  days  made  alike.     Sunday  is 


OBSERVANCE  OF  THE  LORD'S  DAT.  231 

the  poor  man's  tower.  It  is  the  refuge  of  tlie  man  that  is  tasked  and 
taxed  by  his  employers.  And  it  behooves  him  not  to  tread  it  under 
foot  and  destroy  it,  but  to  lift  it  up  and  preserve  it,  that  at  least  on  one 
day  of  the  week  he  may  be  God's  free  man. 

Brethren,  friends,  fellow  citizens,  there  is  nothing  that  I  have  more 
at  heart  than  to  rescue  the  observance  of  the  Lord's  Day.  It  lies 
very  near  to  me,  and  is  very  dear  to  nie.  But  I  do  not  believe  you  can 
rescue  ?t  by  law.  The  Sabbath  day,  to  be  rightly  maintained,  nuist  be 
made  honorable.  It  must  be  made  a  delight.  It  must  be  so  kept,  and 
such  views  nmst  be  inculcated  in  respect  to  it,  that  men  shall  look  upon 
it  as  a  day  of  release  from  bondage  and  toil,  and  that  it  shall  suggest  to 
them  something  higher  than  mere  animal  pleasure.  The  German  Sun- 
days, in  which  men  gather  together  in  beer  gardens  to  drink,  are  sinks 
in  which  men  drain  their  passions ;  and  their  influence  is  not  refining. 
There  may  be  a  little  of  the  social  element  connected  with  them ;  but 
they  do  not  promote  thought-power,  nor  moral  culture,  nor  refinement. 
They  tend  only  to  hilarity,  and  to  the  gratification  of  the  lower  nature. 
They  lead  to  more  indulgence  where  men  need  less,  and  to  no  develop- 
ment where  men  need  development  most. 

It  is  your  interest  and  mine,  not  so  much  to  discuss  this  question  as 
a  historical  question,  not  so  much  to  fight  and  quarrel  about  the  obli- 
gations, and  the  grounds  of  the  obligations,  which  are  imposed  upon  us 
by  this  day,  as  to  avail  oursehes  of  the  great  privileges  which  it  se- 
cures to  us.  We  are  all  in  the  same  boat,  and  are  making  for  one  port. 
"We  are  seeking  to  so  develop  ourselves  that  we  may  be  translated  into 
the  kingdom  of  God's  glory  hereaftei*.  Here  is  a  day  that  lias  come 
down  to  us  by  association  through  four  thousand  years — a  day  of  mer- 
cy, of  rest,  of  affection,  of  joy,  of  education,  and  culture,  in  the  highest 
sense  of  the  terms.  Let  us  maintain  this  day.  Let  us  so  administer  it, 
and  so  in  all  our  houses  organize  it,  and  so  everywhere  keep  it,  that  it 
shall  be  in  the  sight  of  all  men  not  a  yoke,  not  a  restriction,  not  a  de- 
nial of  the  liberty  of  their  rights,  but  a  delight  in  the  Lord,  honorable, 
full  of  joy,  and  full  of  good  fruits.  Make  Sunday  sweet,  and  then  men 
will  take  it.  Be  happier  yourself;  be  kinder  yourself;  be  more  social 
yourself ;  be  more  a  man  yourself ;  let  God's  love  flame  out  of  your 
heart,  as  it  never  has  before  -,  rub  away  animosities ;  give  the  unwel- 
come hand  so  long  kept  back  by  anger ;  make  your  heart  burn  toward 
the  hearts  of  your  fellow  men  ,  and  let  men  see  that  Sunday  is  the  altar 
at  which  you  kindle  your  fire,  and  they  will  come  to  long  for  it,  and 
believ^  in  it 

A  community  or  nation,  if  kept  at  all  in  safety,  Avill  be  kept  by  those 
that  keep  Sunday;  but  no  community  and  no  nation  wil5  loi:^  hs^  k^pt 
in  safety  in  which  Sunday  is  not  kept 


232  OBSERVANCE  OF  THE  LORD'S  DAY. 

PRAYEPw  BEFORE  THE  SERMOK 

Our  Heavenly  Father,  we  delight  to  draw  near  to  thee,  and  to  make 
known  to  thee  all  our  wants.  Thou  dost  not  fail  us.  Thou  art  ever  more 
willing  to  give  than  we  are  t«  receive.  Yea,  before  we  know  our  own 
wants,  while  arising  afar  off,  they  are  discerned  of  thee,  and  thy  ministers 
are  appointed,  and  they  are  satistied.  So  that  we  are  nourished  and  uncon- 
sciously fed  by  the  hand  of  God.  All  our  life  is  a  marvel  of  thy  care,  and 
of  thy  goodness ;  and  we  have  learned  to  rejoice  in  it,  and  to  esteem  things 
better  than  they  are  in  themselves  from  the  source  whence  we  obtain 
them.  All  the  gifts  of  life  are  perfumed  with  thy  touch.  It  is  because 
thou  hast  thought  of  us  that  they  are  more  than  meat  and  drink  to 
us.  Our  own  thoughts  by  which  we  plan,  and  our  own  skill  by  which 
we  achieve,  are  more  to  us  than  the  pleasure  of  pride.  For  thou  hast 
sustained  this  life  which  works ;  and  all  success  is  lirst  of  thee,  and  then 
through  us.  So  that  in  all  things  we  touch  thee,  and  are  touched  of  thee. 
In  thee  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being.  And  the  amplitude  of  life, 
its  variety,  its  riches,  is  in  that  which  brings  thee  near,  and  makes  us  most 
concious  that  we  are  not  of  the  earth,  nor  of  the  brute  creation,  though  we 
so  nearly  touch  them  on  the  one  side,  but  that  we  are  of  God,  and  are  his 
sons,  and  are  to  escape  the  touch  of  matter,  and  all  the  brutality  of  the  lower 
life,  and  are  to  rise  to  become  as  the  angels  of  God,  when  cleansed  from  sin 
and  imperfection  and  the  imprisonment  of  this  bondaging  world. 

And  now,  O  Lord,  we  pray  that  the  light  of  these  truths  may  shine  so 
clearly,  that  not  care,  nor  dust,  nor  din,  nor  any  other  thing  shall  hide  or 
drown  them.  We  pray  that  we  may  live  to  see  Ilim  who  is  invisible.  May 
we  live  by  our  inward  sight,  and  not  by  the  fleshly  eye  nor  by  the  outward 
senses.  Grant  unto  us  that  surpassing  faith,  that  all-creating  power,  by 
which  we  shall  behold  the  truth,  and  the  principles  of  thy  government,  and 
the  joys  of  our  superior  life  by  which  we  shall  come  into  communion  with 
things  not  tangible,  lifted  up  above  us,  and  yet  not  far  from  us,  and  by 
which  we  may  live  with  the  sound  of  the  other  life  in  our  ears  evermore. 
Oh  I  that  we  may  aspire  to  that  higher  manhood,  that  nobler  purity,  that 
strength  which  is  of  God.  And  we  pray  that  while  we  hava  the  wisdom 
of  serijents,  we  may  have  the  harmlessness  of  the  dove.  May  we  live  wise  in 
our  day  and  generation — wise  for  things  secular;  wise  for  the  state  in  which 
we  live,  and  for  the  household,  and  for  all  that  are  dependent  upon  us.  But 
also  may  we  have  that  wisdom  which  cometh  down  from  above,  which  is 
pure  and  peaceable,  and  full  of  the  good  fruit  of  love. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  forgive  us  our  selfishness,  and  our 
pride,  and  our  sordidness,  and  our  abandonment  of  things  spiritual,  and  our 
inordinate  attachment  to  things  carnal  and  temporal.  Forgive,  we  beseech 
of  thee,  our  unkindness  one  to  another.  Forgive  us  that  in  honor  we  have 
sought  our  own  selves  first,  and  not  others;  that  we  have  not  borne  one  an- 
others  burdens,  and  fulfilled  the  law  of  God.  Forgive  us  that  we  have  made 
ourselves  unlovely  by  our  evil  carriage.  Forgive  us  that  we  have  failed  to 
discharge  those  obligations  of  love  and  gratitude  which  thy  sufl'erings  and 
thy  death  and  thy  resurrection  have  laid  every  one  of  us  under. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  not  only  that  thou  wilt  pardon  the  past,  but 
that  thou  wilt  not  be  weary  of  thy  task  of  pity.  Yet  open  the  way  of  the 
future  for  us,  that  we  may  walk  without  stumbling ;  that  we  may  live  with 
a  higher  purpose  and  better  accomplishment;  that  we  may  not  only  be  for- 
given for  past  sin,  but  be  cured  of  sin,  and  of  those  infirmities  out  of  which 
so  many  transgressions  spring.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  fill  us  with  the 
mind  and  will  of  God.  And  may  we  know  his  truth,  in  so  far  as  knowing 
it  may  lead  to  our  perfection.  And  may  we  study  to  approve  ourselves  be- 
fore men  and,  above  all,  before  God,  before  whom  we  must  come,  and  to 
whom  we  must  give  an  account  of  every  deed  done  in  the  body.  Prepare 
us  for  that  great  account.    Prepare  us  for  the  issues  of  that  tremendous  day 


OBSERVANCE  OF  THE  LORD'S  DAT.  233 

w^hicli  awaits  us.  And  we  pray  that  we  may  so  live  here,  that  then  we  may 
have  on  our  side,  cheering  and  strengtliening  and  lilting  us  up,  the  light 
and  the  power  of  our  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ. 

Bless  this  congregation,  and  all  the  families  that  are  represented  in  it. 
Be  in  every  household.  Bring  peace  where  there  is  trouble,  and  joy  where 
there  is  sorrow.  Sanctify  thy  dispensation  to  every  one.  If  there  be  those 
that  are  sullering  bereavment,  wilt  thou  comfort  them.  If  there  be  those 
that  are  in  disappointment  and  overthrow,  lift  them  graciously  up.  Cast 
down,  hut  not  destroyed — may  that  evermore  be  our  triumph  in  adversity. 

And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  that  all  may  have  their  temporal  pros- 
perity blessed  to  their  spiritual  good.  May  it  not  make  them  more  worldly 
and  more  selfish,  dragging  them  down.  May  it  inspire  them  with  heroic 
benevolence  and  divine  wisdom,  with  true  gratitude  and  true  fellowship 
with  men.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  all 
that  are  strangers  in  our  midst.  Separated  from  those  they  love,  may  they 
find  here,  in  thine  house,  and  among  thine  own  people,  a  new  brotherhood, 
and  a  new  home.  Here,  to- day,  feed  them,  and  comfort  them.  Speed  them 
in  the  errands  of  thy  providence  to  which  thou  hast  called  them.  May  nei- 
ther their  faith,  nor  their  hope,  nor  their  courage  fail.  And  though  men 
may  seem  to  have  tallen  away  from  them,  may  they  believe  that  God  doth 
not  forget  them,  and  that  he  will  never  leave  them  nor  forsake  them.  Their 
father's  God,  wlio  bore  them  onward  to  the  end,  will  bear  their  sons.  And 
we  pray  that  all  of  us  may  more  and  more  put  our  trust,  not  in  the  failing, 
visible  things  of  life,  not  in  the  towers  that  men  have  built,  and  the  engines 
of  our  own  strength,  but  in  the  presence  of  our  God.  May  we  keep  fast 
hold  of  thee,  so  that  we  may  be  neither  shaken  nor  uprooted  by  the  storm. 

And  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  all  thy  Churches.  We  thank  thee 
that  thou  art  bringing  together  more  and  more  of  thy  people,  and  that  the 
prayers  of  those  who  have  long  striven  before  thee  are  beginning  to  be  heard, 
and  that  men  are  thinking  of  things  in  which  they  agree,  and  are  being 
drawn  by  confidence  and  sympathy,  and  that  the  one  love  in  Jesus  Christ  is 
uniting  his  followers  on  earth.  Even  so,  speed  thy  good  work,  until  all  thy 
people  everywhere  shall  see  eye  to  eye,  and  join  hand  in  hand,  and  thy 
kingdom  come,  and  thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  done  iu  heaven. 

Which  we  ask  for  Christ  Jesus  sake.    Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 


Lord  God  of  our  fathers,  bless  their  posterity.  Bless  us,  and  bless  our 
children,  and  our  childrens,  children.  Unite  us  in  fellowship  and  love. 
Teach  us  how  to  use  our  privileges  without  by  their  use  oppressing  others. 
May  we,  loving  thee,  love  one  another,  seeking  not  the  things  that  perish  in 
the  using,  but  things  that  feed  once  and  forever.  The  bread  unperishing, 
and  the  water  unwusting,  and  the  life  that  never  dies — may  these  be  ours. 

We  pray,  O  Lord  !  that  thou  wilt  bless  our  land.  Look  at  the  myriads 
that  are  toiling  for  leave  to  be.  How  narrowly  they  live  !  IIow  poor  they 
are!  IIow  little  they  have  of  God!  and  how  much  of  the  world  !  How 
men  snarl  and  snap  at  each  other,  and  seek  to  oppress  each  other,  and  seek 
by  their  arrogant  power  to  tread  down  others  that  they  tliemselves  may 
rise!  Lord  God,  teach  men  how  to  love  one  another,  and  how  to  help  one 
another ;  and  may  the  day  of  the  Son  of  Man  be  a  precious  day  in  our  midst. 
And  as  thou  didst  come  to  open  the  prison  doors,  and  bring  light  into  dark' 


234        OBSERVANCE  OF  TEE  LORD'S  DAY. 

ness,  and  release  and  relief  to  the  captive,  so  may  the  day  called  by  thy  name 
be  a  day  of  remembrance;  a  day  of  kindness ;  a  day  of  gladness;  a  day  of 
the  Holy  Ghost;  a  day  of  justice;  a  day  of  God  among  men.  And  to  thy 
name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son  and  Spirit,  evermore.    Amen, 


XIII. 

Sympathy  of  the  Divine  Spirit 


w 


INVOCATON. 

June  5, 1870. 
,. ,  E  rejoice  that  already  thou  hast  called  us,  our  Father,  and  that  our 
hearts  have  heard  thee.  We  are  drawn  hither  this  morning  by  thy 
Spirit,  which  often  before  has  led  us  into  the  bright  and  joyous  way.  And 
we  come  to  make  known  to  thee,  not  our  own  want,  but  our  thanksgiying, 
for  the  sui^ply  of  our  want ;  not  to  tell  thee  of  our  necessity ;  not  to  plead  as 
with  one  who  is  unwilling ;  but  as  children  come  to  pour  out  their  hearts 
before  their  parents  whom  they  dearly  love,  so  we  desire  to  draw  near  to 
thee,  our  Father  which  art  in  Heaven.  We  rejoice  in  thy  greatness,  in  thy 
power,  in  thy  truth,  in  thy  justice,  and  in  thy  love.  And  now  we  pray  that 
we  may  this  day,  in  the  communion  of  the  Spirit,  be  led  into  all  truth,  and 
receive  such  divine  inspirations  as  shall  help  us  all  in  the  week  that  is  before 
us,  and  in  all  our  lives,  to  live  more  holy,  more  justly  and  uiiblameably. 
Accept  the  song  of  thanksgiving  which  we  shall  utter.  Accept  all  the  ser- 
vices of  devotion.  Assist  us  in  every  effort  at  instruction.  Bless  the  whole 
day  at  our  homes,  in  our  hours  of  retirement  and  meditation  or  of  social 
enjoyment.  And  may  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  make  this  day  bright 
above  all  others.  Which  we  ask  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  and 
Saviour.    Amen. 

13 


SYMPATHY  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT. 


*' Always  the  Spirit  also  helpeth  our  infirmities :  for  we  know  not  what 
^e  should  pray  for  as  we  ou<rht :  but  the  Spirit  itself  maketh  intercession 
for  us  with  groanings  which  cannot  be  uttered." — Rom.  VIII.,  26. 


It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  Divine  Spiiit  is  here  said  to  utter 
audible  outcry  in  the  presence  of  God ;  nor  are  we  necessarily  to  un- 
derstand that  the  groanings,  the  sighs,  which  men  under  profound  re- 
ligious aspirations  make,  are  directly  the  influence  of  the  Divine  Spirit 
— that  is,  that  men  are  merely,  as  it  were,  the  pipe  through  which  the 
sound  is  produced ;  bat  rather,  that  all  those  high  experiences  of  men's 
souls  who  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness,  by  which  they  long 
and  sigh  and  groan,  are  in  them  the  result  and  work  of  that  Divine 
Spirit.  It  is  the  interpretation  that  is  given  to  invisible  truth  by  the  Spirit 
of  God  that  leads  men  to  these  yearnings  and  desires.  These  higher 
forms  of  Christian  experience  are  therefore  wrought  in  men,  and  they 
ai'e  signs  of  the  work  of  God  that  is  going  on  in  the  human  soul. 

A  soul  that  is  born  into  the  kingdom  of  divine  love  is  like  an  in- 
fant that  has  come  into  the  human  family.  It  has  life  ;  but  it  has  every^ 
thing  to  learn  about  life.  It  is  helpless,  ignorant,  inexpert ;  but  the 
whole  household,  on  the  human  plane,  is  organized  to  meet  the  exi- 
gency of  infant  life,  by  suiTonnding  it  with  an  atmosphere  of  love  and 
of  pity.  The  wealth  of  its  parents  has  provided  a  protection  from  the 
seasons.  The  roof  and  the  walls  defend  it,  and  not  the  less  because 
they  do  it  silently  and  unobtrusively.  They  are  no  less  the  work  of 
the  parents'  love,  because  the  child  becomes  used  to  them,  and  sees 
them,  year  by  year,  all  the  way  up  from  childhood  to  manhood.  The 
house  is  as  the  natural  world.  In  the  parallel  and  analogy,  natural 
laws,  like  the  roof  and  the  walls,  are  not  the  less  expressions  of  the 
divine  provident  care  because  we  have  become  used  to  them. 

The  whole  order  of  the  household — its  interior  economy — is  deter- 
mined with  reference  to  the  best  welfare  of  tlie  children.  The  love  of 
the  parent's  heart  furnishes  to  the  cliild  the  care  and  the  tenderness 
which  it  needs.     And  the  parent's  experience  and  worldly  wisdom  and 

SuMiAT  MOKNLNO,  Jnne  5, 1870.  Lesson  :  Eph,  VI.  Hymns  (Plymouth  Collection) ;  Noa. 
633,  6112,  072. 


236  SYMPATHY  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT. 

provident  skill  mark  out  the  beginning  of  the  child's  life,  and  weigh 
and  plan  a  business  for  the  child.  So  that  from  the  moment  of  its  help- 
less birth  up  through  the  unfolding  series  of  its  years,  it  is  surrounded, 
quite  without  its  own  cognizance,  and  without  much  of  its  own  help, 
with  a  training-school  where  health  and  wisdom  and  experience  are 
providing  for  its  whole  welfare,  until  it  is  able  to  take  care  of  itself. 

Now,  the  whole  scheme  of  this  world  is  like  that.  The  natural 
globe,  natural  laws,  the  divinely-arranged  economy  ot  human  society, 
are  all  of  them  but  ministrants  in  the  household  which  God  has  made, 
and  into  which  men  are  born  helpless ;  and  all  of  them  are  under  the 
supervision  of  parental  divine  love,  working  for  the  young  immortaL 

Let  me  read  the  whole  passage : 

Likewise  the  Spirit  also  helpeth  our  infirmities :  for  we  know  not  what 
we  should  pray  for  as  we  ought:  but  the  Spirit  itself  maketh  intercession 
for  us  with  groanings  which  cannot  be  uttered.  And  he  that  searcheth  the 
hearts  knoweth  what  is  the  mind  of  the  Spirit,  because  he  n.aketh  interces- 
sion for  the  saints  according  to  the  will  of  God.  And  we  know  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God — to  them  who  are  called  ac- 
cording to  his  purpose.  For  whom  he  did  foreknow,  he  also  did  predesti- 
nate to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  his  Son,  that  he  might  be  the  first 
born  among  many  brethren.  Moreover,  whom  he  did  predestinate,  them 
he  also  called :  and  whom  he  called,  them  he  also  justified :  and  whom  he 
justified,  them  he  also  glorified.  What  shall  we  then  say  to  these  things  ? 
If  God  be  for  us,  who  can  be  against  us  ?  He  that  spared  not  his  own  Son, 
but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give 
us  all  things  ?" 

It  is  quite  possible  for  one  to  assume  not  only  a  monarchical  standpoint, 
but  the  stand^ioint  of  a  monarch  who  is  using  the  great  and  unconscious 
forces  of  nature,  to  interpret  this  passage  so  as  to  make  it  not  lovely — 
not  attractive — certainly  not  true.  For  if  we  undertake  to  say  that 
God,  by  special  act  and  attribute  of  foreknowledge,  saw  all  things  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end,  and  that,  seeing  all  things,  he  tied  things 
where  they  were  to  be,  and,  as  it  were,  put  engines  of  irresistible  force 
aU  the  way  along  down  through  life,  so  that  when  men  came  to  the 
different  points  in  their  career  they  could  not  help  themselves,  but 
went  to  the  right  or  the  left  because  the  reversible  switch  had  been 
turned,  and  they  had  to  go  where  the  track  was ;  if  we  believe  that  God 
predestinates  men  to  this  and  that  and  the  other  thing,  and  that  when 
they  have  once  come  into  the  charmed  circle  of  divine  fate  they  cannot 
help  themselves,  and  are  to  be  glorified  or  damned,  as  the  case  may  be; 
if  we  give  that  governmental  and  monarchical  interpretation  to  it,  you 
will  set  every  thinking  man,  almost,  kicking  against  the  pricks,  and 
you  will  be  launched  on  that  voyage  of  infinite  argument  and  infinite 
confusion  which  has  grown  up  since  man  had  an  existence,  and  will 
find  yourself  vainly  endeavoring  to  solve  those  doctrines  of  free-will, 
fate,  predestination,  fore-ordination,  election,  effectual  calling,  irresisti- 


SYMPATHY  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT.  237 

ble  decrees,  and  all  those  great  questions  wliich  no  man  ever  yet  was 
able  to  manage — except  while  he  was  yet  speaking.  For  when  his  neigh- 
bor came  and  searched  hhn  he  had  to  speak  again.  This  passage,  if 
you  take  it  on  the  ground  of  a  governmental  and  monarchical  adminis- 
tration, is  a  declaration  of  one  of  those  great  outlying  views  which  de- 
fies inquisition,  and  is  fai*  beyond  the  reach  ot  the  unaided  understand- 
ing. But  if  you  take  this  passage  to  be  paternal,  in  the  line  of  the 
figure  which  I  have  opened,  somewhat,  there  is  no  difficulty  in  it. 

Every  father  and  mother,  when  the  helpless  child  is  born  into  the 
household,  rejoice  and  give  thanks  to  God.  They  rejoice  and  give 
thanks,  not  because  of  what  it  is  now,  but  because  of  what  it  may  be- 
come. The  mother  gives  to  it  her  nights  and  days.  The  father  gives 
to  it  all  his  leisure  and  all  his  occupation.  And  what  is  it  that  strikes 
joy  down  through  the  burdened  and  oppressed  soul  of  many  a  me- 
chanic, many  a  merchant,  many  a  banker,  many  a  literary  man,  in  the 
intervals  of  leisure,  but  the  thought  of  that  light  which  is  burning  at 
home — the  blessedness  of  the  cradle  ?  The  mother  broods  over  it,  and 
the  father  broods  over  it ;  and  they  say,  "  That  child  shall  be  brought 
up  to  honor,  and  truth,  and  virtue,  and  usefulness."  The  father  lays 
his  own  life  along  the  road,  and  takes  sight  aci'oss  it,  and  in  the  light 
of  his  experience  he  marks  out  what  he  means  that  the  child  shall  be ; 
and  the  mother  takes  sight  along  the  level  of  love,  and  determines  what 
the  child  shall  be.  The  father  and  mother  Avork  and  co-work,  deter- 
mining what,  if  their  eflEbrts  are  successful  and  their  hopes  are  realized, 
that  child  shall  be.  They  foresee  and  predestinate,  and  call  effectually, 
and  work  together  to  bring  that  child  uj)  good  and  true  and  prosperous. 

We  are  taught  to  say,  "  Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven."  We  are 
taught  that  when  men  are  born  into  this  world,  God  looks,  in  a  sympa- 
thetic paternal  way,  along  down  the  path  of  life,  and  says,  "  All  the 
power,  and  all  the  sympathy,  and  all  the  cooperative  influences  of  the 
world,  and  all  natm-e  itself,  are  to  serve  this  young,  trusting,  loving, 
immortal  spirit."  To  those  that  love  God  all  things  shall  work  to- 
gether/or good.  The  moment  a  man  puts  himself  into  sympathetic 
communication  with  God,  nature  and  time  and  all  the  forces  thereof 
assume  new  relations  to  him.  The  moment  a  soul  binds  itself  trust- 
ingly to  the  bosom  of  its  loving  God  by  love,  nature  has  God's  com- 
mand to  take  care  of  him,  and  providence  has  God's  command  to  take 
care  of  him,  and  God's  wakeful  Spirit  forever  broods  over  him  and 
works  in  him. 

This  doctrine  of  the  divine  sympathy  has  here  a  specialty.  While 
the  general  doctrine  which  I  have  unfolded  is  unquestionably  true,  here 
is  a  special  application  of  it.  And  the  general  doctrine  is  made  moio 
affecting  and  more  desii'able  by  this  specialty  which  ia  given  to  it     I 


238  SYMPATHY  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT. 

refer  to  the  declaration  in  our  text,  that  "  Likewise  the  Spirit  also 
helpeth  our  infirmities." 

Everybody,  I  do  not  care  how  dull  he  is,  loves  to  see  a  great  na- 
ture that  devotes  itself,  not  to  those  who  are  on  a  level  with  him,  but 
to  those  who  are  beneath  him.  We  expect  that  those  wdio  are  drawn 
together  by  afiinity  will  be  devoted  to  each  other.  We  should  expect 
that  if  one  Lord  Bacon  were  in  conference  with  another  Lord  Bacon, 
they  would  sit  together  and  commune  all  through  the  livelong  night. 
But  to  see  a  man  whose  head  is  a  vital  encyclopedia,  who  knows  all 
things,  as  it  were,  go  past  his  equals,  and  go  down  below  those  that 
are  able  to  understand  the  main  part  of  him,  and  devote  himself  to 
children  in  the  family ;  nay,  more  than  that,  to  see  him  take  care  of 
little  children  in  that  spot  where  they  break  out  in  things  that  are  bad ; 
to  see  him  take  care,  not  of  children  that  reward  his  pains  by  a  quick 
understanding  of  what  he  says,  but  of  children  that  are  dullards ;  to  see 
this  man  of  learning,  this  president  of  some  college,  this  mighty  pro- 
fessorial, encyclopediac  man,  take  the  iinpromising  child  of  the  family 
where  he  is  spending  the  summer,  or  where  he  is  an  occasional  visitor, 
on  his  knee,  and  try  to  beat  into  its  thick  head  one  idea  after  another ; 
to  see  him  pay  no  special  attention  to  the  other  children  of  the  family 
who  are  bright  and  intelligent,  and  manifest  no  particular  sympathy  for 
those  with  whom  he  would  be  supposed  naturally  to  fraternize ;  to  see 
him  patiently  continuing  this  labor  of  love  from  day  to  day  and  from 
week  to  week,  working  the  child  along,  working  him  along,  and  work- 
ing him  along,  until  he  succeeds  in  getting  something  into  him,  and 
bringing  him  up  so  that  the  neighbors  say,  "  Well  this  child,  after  all, 
may  turn  out  to  be  something ;  there  seems  to  be  a  mine  in  him  w^hich, 
if  worked,  will  yield  some  return ;  that  man  has  quarried  till  he  has 
struck  gold  in  him" — to  see  such  a  man  denying  himself  of  those  things 
which  his  education  and  culture  eminently  fit  him  to  enjoy,  that  he  may 
inspire  in  the  dullest  child  a  desire  for  knowledge,  and  develop  in  that 
child  those  elements  which  it  most  lacks — is  there  any  human  being 
worthy  of  the  name,  who  would  not  admii'e  it  as  noble  and  almost  di- 
vine ?  "  Likewise  the  Spirit  also  helpeth  our" — what  ?  Our  aspiration 
towards  things  high  and  beautiful  ?  Oh,  yes.  Our  noblest  dreams  ? 
Yes,  doubtless.  Our  grandest  purposes  ?  Oh  yes,  the  Spu-it  helpeth 
them.  Our  relative  excellences  ?  Yes ;  undoubtedly.  Our  generosity 
and  magnanimity  ?  Without  a  doubt  the  Spirit  helps  them.  All  the 
moods  of  nobility  into  which  we  come  ?  To  be  sure,  the  Spirit  helps 
them.  But  that  is  not  it.  "  The  Spirit  likewise  also  helpeth  om*  in- 
firmities." The  teaching  of  Scripture  is  that  God,  instead  of  standing 
over  us  with  a  rod  of  justice,  with  a  sword,  to  chastise  us  for  our  faults, 
stands  by  om*  side  to  help  our  failings. 


8YMPATRT  OF  TEE  DIVINE  SPIRIT.  239 

Listen  to  the  way  in  which  it  is  more  largely  wi'ought  out  in  the 

fourth  chapter  of  Hebrews  : 

"  Seeing  then  that  we  have  a  great  high  priest,  that  is  passed  into  the 
heavens,  Jesus  the  Son  of  God,  let  us  hold  fast  our  profession.  For  we  have 
no  high  priest  which  cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities; 
but  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin.  Let  us  there- 
fore come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace,  that  we  may  obtain  mercy,  and 
find  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need." 

What,  then,  do  we  understand  by  infirmity  f  It  is,  in  genei'al, 
feebleness,  weakness  ;  but,  in  the  spiritual  application  which  it  has  in 
the  New  Testament,  it  indicates  a  weakness  of  a  peculiar  kind — namely, 
moral  weakness.  Feebleness  of  conception  and  knowledge  in  religious 
things  is  infirmity  of  knowledge — a  lack  of  it ;  poverty  of  it.  Feeble- 
ness of  the  will-power  by  which  we  resist  evil — that  is  an  infirmity. 
There  are  thousands  of  men  who  do  wrong  because  they  have  very 
feeble  resisting  power.  There  are  multitudes  of  persons  Avho  fall  into 
wrong  courses  on  account  of  the  feebleness  of  their  power  of  self- 
restraint,  which  is  only  a  variation  of  the  will-power.  There  are  many 
who  find  it  extremely  hard  to  lay  a  hold-back  hand  on  the  impetuosity 
of  their  passions.  Great  feebleness  in  the  presence  of  evil,  with  a  pe- 
culiar susceptibility  to  temptation,  will  be  apt  to  be  carried  away  by  it. 

This  is  hinted  at  where,  in  another  place,  it  is  said  that  God  will 
not  suffer  you  to  he  tempted  more  than  you  are  able  to  hear — indi- 
cating that  there  are  some  who,  the  pressure  being  brought  upon  them, 
can  bear  it,  and  that  there  are  others  who,  the  pressure  being  brought 
upon  them,  cannot  bear  it. 

In  a  conflict  of  knights  some  will  rush  together  with  poised  spears,. 
which,  striking  each  other's  shields  in  a  given  way,  Avill  both  be  shiv- 
ered to  the  handle.  The  knights,  under  such  circumstances,  having' 
done  all,  stand.  Others,  paralyzed  by  weakness,  rush  against  their 
antagonists,  and  being  unable  to  resist  the  shock,  are  hurled  to  the- 
dust,  and  vanquished.  Their  overthrow  is  the  result  of  infirmity,  or 
weakness — not  weakness  that  amounts  to  spiritual  imperfection,  but 
weakness  in  the  sense  of  feebleness.  Feebleness  of  the  whole  econ- 
omy by  which  we  are  to  come  into  knowledge,  and  through  knowledge 
into  virtue,  and  through  virtue  into  vital  godliness  in  the  soul — tliis  is 
the  general  meaning  of  infirmity.  In  short,  it  implies  a  nature  that 
means  to  do  right,  that  wants  to  do  right,  but  that  feels  itself  met  by 
influences  that  are  stronger,  more  cunning,  and  more  seductive  than  it 
has  skill  to  resist.  This  explains  the  majority  of  those  transgressions 
over  which  men  mourn.  Nine  parts  in  ten  of  those  sins  wliich  men 
confess  and  mourn  over,  are  sins  which  tliey  did  not  set  out  to  commit,, 
which  they  did  not  want  to  commit,  which  they  are  sorry  they  have 
committed,  but  which  they  committed  through  weakness — weakness  ia 


240  8TMPATHT  OF  TEE  DIVINE  SPIRIT. 

the  power  of  understanding  and  intei-preting  facts ;  weakness  In  that 
general  knowledge  of  cause  and  effect  which  might  have  saved  them 
from  wrong-doing.  Half  of  our  sins  are  violations  of  natural  law — if 
there  is  any  distinction  between  natural  laws  and  moral  laws.  The 
greater  proportion  of  men's  sins  are  those  which  they  commit  through 
infirmity. 

The  attempt  to  maintain  a  spiritual  life  in  this  world  is  an  attempt 
against  great  adversarial  powers.  It  is  no  small  thing  for  a  man  born 
into  a  fleshly  body,  connected  with  the  material  world,  and  beat  in 
upon  by  ten  thousand  biasing  and  sympathizing  influences  which  come 
from  the  body  of  human  society,  to  lift  himself  out  from  all  that  is  low 
and  carnal  into  an  atmosphere  where  he  can  see  clearly,  and  under- 
stand, and  maintain  vigilance,  persevering  unto  the  end.  And  God  is 
not  indifferent  to  the  task  and  tax  which  one  undertakes  when,  with 
so  many  obstacles  to  contend  against,  he  endeavors  to  live  a  life  of 
obedience.  God  looks  ujjon  it  as  a  thing  most  difficult.  He  knows  it 
is  a  thing  hard  in  itself  He  knows,  too,  that  the  majority  of  men  are 
weak,  so  that  it  is  extremely  difficult  for  them  t^  d^  right  things  and 
avoid  wrong  things.  God  does  not  stand  like  a  burning  furnace  of 
rage  and  wrath  to  consume  a  sinner  because  he  sins.  He  pities  a  sin- 
nex".  He  sympathizes  with  the  poor  and  the  feeble.  Probably  he  is 
more  lenient  toward  the  sinner  than  toward  any  other  creature  in  the 
universe.  Though  he  sees  that  his  sin  is  sin ;  though  he  sees  how 
devastating  its  tendencies  are ;  though  he  sees  how  full  it  is  of  pain 
that  may  go  on  breeding  pain  forever  and  forever  ;  though  he  has  all 
knowledge  of  what  is  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin,  there  is  no  being 
that  looks  upon  it  with  more  pity,  more  compassion,  more  sympathetic 
helpfulness,  than  that  same  God. 

Let  us  specialize  some  of  the  spheres  of  sympathy  in  which  the 
Spirit  of  God  acts  with  reference  to  us.  I  shall  but  glance  at  the  most 
■of  them,  in  order  that  I  may  spend  more  time  on  the  last  one,  which 
is  less  frequently  a  matter  of  consideration. 

All  the  difficulties  which  lie  in  our  life  in  the  material  body ;  all 
our  physical  wants ;  all  our  bodily  weaknesses  and  sicknesses,  and  the 
infelicities  that  arise  from  them — ^these  things  men  who  are  in  health 
are  very  hard  and  uncharitable  about.  Many  a  person  with  whom  you 
have  to  do  disappoints  you — does  not  fulfill  your  expectation.  Many  a 
person  lets  fly  casual  words  which  kritate  you.  But  if  you  knew  out  of 
what  utter  weakness,  if  you  knew  out  of  what  a  sense  of  almost  deathly 
feebleness,  these  things  often  come,  methinks  it  would  excite  in  you, 
as  doubtless  it  does  in  God,  a  spirit  of  pity  and  compassion,  rather 
than  of  blame  for  their  wrong-doing.  There  needs  to  be  pity  for  the 
sinning,  although  their  sins  are  to  be  repressed.     God  has  sympathy 


BYMPATHY  OF  TEE  DIVINE  SPIRIT.  241 

and  compassion  for  those  who  have  temptations  that  are  preying  upon 
them,  and  who  are  weakened  by  over-exertion,  or  who  suffer  in  body 
from  hunger  and  thu'st  and  cold  and  various  Avants,  or  who  are  in  dis- 
couragement and  despondency  of  mind,  so  that  they  are  led  to  do 
things  which  are  wi'ong.  Society  may  disregard  them  (as  it  mostly 
does  ;  for  men  are  very  cruel  to  wrong-doers  on  the  lower  plane  of 
life);  but  there  is  one  Heart  that  never  forgets  them,  nor  ceases 
to  compassionate  them.  There  is  one  summery  place  for  people 
who  are  sinning  or  doing  evil  things.  It  is  the  heart  of  the  Divine 
Spirit. 

What  appetites  and  passions  inhere  in  the  body,  and  are  its  engi- 
neers, and  minister  to  its  existence,  and  feed  and  strengthen  it,  and 
overact,  or  act  in  disparity,  and  lead  to  partialisms,  governing  the  whole 
economy  of  life  in  men !  There  are  men  who  sin  on  account  of  these 
lordly  elements,  which  dominate  over  the  other  parts  of  then-  nature. 
And  yet,  God,  though  he  is  not  indulgent  toward  their  sin,  sympathizes 
with  men  who  are  pressed  out  of  all  measure  by  these  internal  forces. 
It  is  not  any  less  wrong  for  a  man  to  be  ugly  because  he  has  a  foun- 
tain of  ugliness  in  him,  or  because  he  has  a  belluine  nature  to  contend 
with.  This  cruel  and  wicked  disposition  is  to  be  repressed.  But  there 
never  was  a  man  whose  stomach  and  liver,  whose  bodily  organs,  and 
whose  mental  forces,  combined  to  keep  him  in  a  suffering  and  exagger- 
ated condition  out  of  which  come  the  most  intolerable  manifestations 
of  temj^er,  that  God  did  not  feel  pity  for  him.  When  you  see  such  a 
man,  you  call  him  a  hateful  old  curmudgeon ;  and  he  comes  to  despise 
himself ;  and  he  gets  to  be  ugly  ;  and  he  becomes  desperate,  and  does 
things  that  are  wrong,  and  even  commits  crimes.  But  there  is  a  Being 
who  looks  on  these  things,  and  knows  what  the  man  suffers,  and  what 
the  infirmities  are  out  of  which  they  spring.  There  is  many  a  man 
that  is  disagi-eeable  in  a  neighborhood,  that  you  do  not  like  to  have 
much  to  do  with,  that  mixes  bitterness  in  the  cup  of  life  for  his  own 
lips  and  the  lips  of  others,  and  is  a  disturber  of  his  own  household, 
and,  in  a  moment  of  passion,  commits  the  fatal  deed  which  shall  carry 
him  to  the  gallows.  And  he  says,  "There  is  no  use  now.  I  shall  die, 
and  I  shall  be  damned  when  I  die ;  and  I  may  as  well  take  it  as  I  find 
it."  But  still  God  broods  over  him,  and  pities  him,  and  would  help 
him.  And  if  there  could  be  developed  in  every  such  man  a  belief  that 
there  is  a  Si)irit  that  pities  his  infirmities,  while  he  reprehends  and  pun- 
ishes his  actual  transgressions  ;  if  eveiy  sinning  man  could  be  made  to 
feel  that  God  is  sorry  for  him,  and  that  he  has  a  nature  which  would 
lead  him  to  do  by  the  sinner  as  a  father  or  mother  would  do  by  an 
erring  child,  training  him  out  of  his  childish  faults  and  into  manly  vir- 
tues ;  if  every  man  that  ha*  fallen  into  evil  ways  could  have  that  knowl- 


242  SYMPATHY  OF  TEE  DIVINE  SPIRIT. 

edge,  how  many  men  might  be  transformed,  and  made  better,  if  not 
perfect,  in  manhood. 

In  all  the  cares  or  burdens  or  trials  which  arise  from  our  condition 
of  temporal  life,  we  have  also  the  thought  and  compassion  and  sympa- 
thy of  the  Spirit  of  God.  Men  feel  that  when  they  go  into  business 
they  go  away  from  religion,  and  that  secular  cares  and  burdens  and 
trials  are,  as  it  were,  counterparts  to  virtues  and  religious  experiences. 
But  if  there  be  anything  susceptible  of  demonstration,  it  is  that  the  de- 
cree of  God  made  the  secular  experiences  of  life  a  means  of  grace. 
The  necessities  to  which  we  are  subject  in  life  are  normal.  It  was  on 
purpose  that  God  made  us  merchants,  and  mechanics,  and  toilers  in 
every  way.  To  work  is  not  the  curse.  To  drudge  is.  To  work  is  a 
part  of  the  blessing  of  our  organization,  and  of  that  whole  organization 
of  society  by  which  all  men  ai-e  necessitated  to  occupy  morning  and  noon 
and  night  in  tasking  and  taxing  their  physical  powers  or  their  under- 
standing. It  is  a  part  of  the  vast  economy  of  education.  Intellectual, 
social  and  moral  education  inheres  in  that.  And  our  religion  is  to  go 
with  it.  It  is  to  be  a  part  of  our  experience,  as  our  experience  is  a  part 
of  our  moral  and  religious  life.  And  so,  all  the  cares,  and  all  the  bur- 
dens, and  all  the  trials,  and  all  the  mingled  matters  of  experience  which 
make  men  so  tired  of  life — these  are  infirmities.  They  are  a  part  of 
that  constitution  of  things  and  of  nature  which  God  recognizes,  and 
which  draws  the  heart  of  God  continually  toward  men  in  all  helpful- 
ness. He  does  not  say  that  sinning  is  not  sinful,  but  he  recognizes  the 
liability  to  sin.  And  as  the  parent  in  the  family,  recognizing  the  child's 
liability  to  sin,  overhangs  the  child,  and  seeks  to  lead  him  away  from 
wrongs  that  come  out  of  its  weaknesses,  so  the  heart  of  God  overhangs 
with  sympathy  and  perpetual  help  those  that  love  him,  and  are  willing 
to  receive  the  blessings  that  he  would  confer  upon  them. 

God  also  sympathizes  with  us  in  all  our  domestic  infirmities — in  the 
carriage  of  ourselves  one  towards  another.  I  have  noticed  in  con- 
certs that  if  two  violinists  play  together,  although,  before  they  came 
upon  the  platform  they  tuned  their  instruments,  no  sooner  do  they  get 
ready  to  strike  off  than  they  try  their  instruments  again.  And  by  the 
time  they  have  played  one  or  two  pieces,  there  is  such  divergence  be- 
tween the  instruments  that  they  require  to  be  again  tuned.  But 
the  violin  of  the  musician  has  not  one  fifth  as  many  strings  as  the  hu- 
man violin  has,  and  it  is  not  half  as  sensitive  to  the  changes  of  the 
weather,  and  does  not  need  to  be  screwed  up  or  down  half  so  often. 
And  you  cannot  keep  this  little  mechanical  instrument  in  tune  ex- 
cept with  great  pains.  The  least  jar,  or  the  least  atmospheric  change, 
produces  an  abberation  this  way  or  that  And  do  you  suppose  you  can 
take  two  instruments,  each  having  fifty  strings,  more  susceptible  even 


BYMPATUT  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT,  243 

than  those  of  a  violin,  and  have  them  in  tune  one  with  another,  in  the 
midst  of  the  many  and  powerful  influences  which  are  constantly  tend- 
ing to  produce  discord  between  them  ? 

A  man  that  knows  how  to  take  his  mind,  with  all  its  sensibilities, 
and  bring  it  into  tune  with  divine  love,  and  who  knows  how  to  cany 
it  harmoniously  through  all  the  hours  of  the  day,  so  that  it  shall  all  the 
time  be  in  tune  with  other  minds,  has  very  little  to  learn  before  it  goea 

to  heaven. 

Now,  our  business  in  life  is  to  try  to  keep  this  fiddle  of  ours  so 
that  it  shall  be  at  peace,  first  with  its  ovm  self,  and  then  with  others. 
But  we  cannot  keep  at  peace  with  ourselves  sq  long  as  one  side  is 
blaming  the  other  side  ;  so  long  as  the  lower  feelings  are  rasping  the 
higher  feelings ;  so  long  as  combativeness  is  howling  at  the  moral 
sentiments ;  so  long  as  the  appetites  and  passions  are  uproarious, 
and  are  carrying  on  all  sorts  of  mischief  It  is  a  hard  thing  for  a 
man  to  take  such  an  instrument  as  the  human  mind,  and  keep  it  in 
tune  with  itself,  and  also  keep  it  in  accord  with  this  that  and  the  other 
mind,  with  their  different  temperaments,  and  in  all  their  varying  moods, 
and  under  all  their  trials  and  swayings  and  waipings  and  biasings.  I 
tell  you,  when  a  man  says  that  he  is  perfect  already,  I  feel  that  there  is 
only  one  of  two  places  for  him,  and  that  is  heaven  or  the  lunatic  asy- 
lum. Not  that  I  do  not  believe  in  perfection.  I  do  believe  in  it.  I 
believe  it  is  possible  in  this  world.  But  I  never  have  seen  the  accom- 
plishment of  it.  And  the  specimens  that  are  generally  sent  out  as 
samples  have  not  induced  me  to  buy.  I  believe  that  ideally  there  is 
provision  for  men  to  be  perfect.  And  I  believe  there  are  a  great  many 
that  are  perfect  in  a  certain  way.  That  is  to  say,  there  is  no  difiiculty 
in  a  man  being  perfect  if  you  make  the  standard  low  enough.  K  one 
comply  with  certain  metaphysical  conditions  of  perfectness,  I  do  not 
know  why  he  may  not  be  metaphysically  perfect,  though  at  the  same 
time  he  is  personally  and  dispositionally  imperfect.  But  when  you 
consider  what  it  is  to  be  absolutely  perfect ;  when  you  consider  what 
perfection  requires ;  when  you  consider  what  wide-reaching  compre- 
hension, what  exquisite  planning,  what  peace  within,  what  harmony 
with  other  men,  what  accomplishing  power  in  things  right  and  tnxe, 
and  what  a  realization  not  only  of  the  objects  of  this  life  but  of  the 
fruitions  of  the  life  which  is  to  come,  are  requu'ed  in  those  that  are  per- 
fect, you  do  not  hope  to  see  many  perfect  people  on  earth.  There  is 
nothing  so  grand  as  the  kingd(>m  of  the  human  soul,  with  its  wide- 
reaching  results,  its  deep  penetrating  roots,  and  its  magnificent  blos- 
soms and  fruit,  where  perfection  reigns ;  but  we  are  not  apt  to  como 
across  men  in  this  world  to  whom  we  can  point  and  say,  '■  They  are 
perfect."     Angels  laugh  at  the  idea  of  men  becoming  perfect  in  the 


244  SYMPATHY  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT, 

ways  which  they  think  will  lead  to  perfection  ;  and  we  might  as  well 
wipe  out  the  fantasy  which  prevails  on  this  subject. 

The  hardest  thing  for  us  to  do  is  first  to  live  right  within  ourselves, 
and  then  to  live  right  with  each  other.  There  must  be  justice  not  only 
in  the  speech  of  our  lips,  but  in  our  thoughts.  I  hold  that  a  true  man 
no  more  indulges  in  evil  thoughts  than  in  evil  expressions.  One  who 
has  real  nobility  of  soul  does  not  even  allow  himself  to  think  uncharit- 
able things  of  men,  bnt  is  purer  toward  them  in  his  inward  life  than  in 
any  outward  development. 

Now,  in  this  great  conflict,  where  there  is  so  much  turmoil  and  rasp- 
ing and  irritation,  where  there  is  so  much  of  sadness,  where  there  are 
so  many  hearts  broken,  where  there  are  so  many  men  that  carry  bur- 
dens, it  is  a  comfort  to  me  to  hear  God  say,  by  his  brooding  Spuit,  "  I 
help,  in  those  respects,  your  infinnities."  It  comforts  me  to  hear  it 
said,  "  Ye  have  not  an  high-priest  which  cannot  be  touched  with  a 
a  feeling  of  your  infirmities,  but  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  ye  are, 
yet  without  sin." 

Lastly,  the  symj^athy  of  God  is  with  the  hidden  and  superior  trials 
of  the  nobler  parts  of  our  souls — with  those  troubles  which  spring 
from  the  exercise  of  the  higher  traits,  as  well  as  with  those  which  I 
have  specified. 

In  the  first  place,  there  are  a  great  many  poetic  natures  who  ai'e 
subject  to  extreme  variations ;  who  are  all  flush  and  hopeful  in  one 
hour,  and  all  drooping  and  empty  in  another ;  who  are  subject  both  to 
the  intensities  of  belief,  and  to  the  intensities  of  unbelief ;  who  at  times, 
hardly  understanding  the  constitution  from  which  these  things  spring, 
are  perplexed  and  annoyed ;  but  who,  at  other  times,  discerning  the 
forces  that  are  at  work  in  and  around  them,  are  cheered  and  encour- 
aged. "  All  things  are  open  and  naked  unto  the  eyes  of  him  with 
whom  we  have  to  do  ;"  and  God  sympathizes  with  our  moods,  with  the 
ever-shifting  shades  of  transient  and  poetic  feeling, — which  are  said  to 
be  "  imaginary,"  as  if  the  imagination  were  not  a  fact  as  much  as  any 
other  fact  in  life. 

Then  there  are  those  who  are  living  in  a  perpetual  discontent  of 
this  life.  They  cannot  cease  to  take  an  interest  in  it.  Nature  provides 
that  they  shall  not  let  go  even  if  they  wish  to.  But  there  are  times 
when  there  comes  to  them  such  a  sense  of  the  littleness  of  life,  its  evan- 
escence, and  its  valuelessness,  that  they  seem  to  themselves  to  be  as  so 
many  ants  or  worms.  The  whole  economy  of  life  oftentimes  seems  to 
be  one  of  such  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit  that  a  man  is  almost  wil- 
ling to  lay  down  his  burden,  even  if  he  does  it  by  his  own  volition,  and 
go  out  of  life,  saying  to  himself,  "Better  is  the  day  of  one's  death  than 
the  day  of  one's  bu'th."     One  is  tempted,  under  such  cii'cumstances,  to 


SYMPATHY  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT.  245 

doubt  liimself ;  to  doubt  his  friends ;  to  doubt  everybody ;  to  doubt  every- 
thing. All  the  weaknesses  of  men,  all  their  short-comings,  all  theu* 
petty  treacheries  and  insincerities,  all  their  lies,  all  their  snatches  of 
ambition,  all  their  fever-heats,  all  the  elements  that  go  to  constitute  the 
imperfection  of  a  nascent  and  growing  creature,  come  up  before  one's 
mind,  and  he  is  very  strongly  tempted  to  scoff  and  sneer  at  them.  And 
where  this  feeling  of  contempt  for  one's  fellow  men  is  accompanied  by 
a  sense  of  one's  own  worthlessness,  the  whole  world  is  good  for  noth- 
ing in  his  view.  In  such  moods  a  man  is  ashamed  of  himself,  and  he 
hates  himself  for  falling  into  such  philanthropic  states  of  mind.  Nev- 
ertheless, there  is  a  Spirit  that  helps  our  injirniity ;  that  knows 
how  w^e  are  tried ;  that  understands  our  nature ;  that  teaches  and  suc- 
cors and  cures  men ;  and  that  by  love  brings  them  back  to  reason,  and 
to  charity,  and  to  peace. 

Then,  there  are  moods  in  which  annihilation  reigns.  The  eye  sees 
not,  and  the  ear  hears  not,  and  the  understanding  understands  not,  and 
the  heart  feels  not.  One  is  dead,  seemingly.  There  are  times  when 
men  of  a  sensitive  nature  seem  to  themselves  to  lose  their  hold  on  life. 
They  fall  off  from  the  interest  of  the  human  race,  and  from  everything. 
And  these  arid,  desert  experiences  God  understands.  He  knows  what 
they  come  from.  He  knows  how  many  transgressions  spring  out  of 
them.     And  he  pities  and  helps  them. 

Then  there  are  those  moments  of  intense  yearaing  which  turn  all 
common  feelings  pale.  There  are  those  fears  lest  truth  shall  have  been 
a  fable,  after  all.  There  are  those  hom"s  of  unspeakable  anguish  Avhich 
men  pass  through  where  they  seem  to  themselves  to  be  letting  go  of 
all  that  is  most  sacred  in  the  i)ast ;  where  all  the  thoughts  that  are  per- 
fumed with  the  associations  of  home-life  are  taking  flight ;  and  where 
the  tree  of  religious  life  that  once  was  full  of  birds,  and  full  of  blossoms 
and  leaves  for  the  healing  of  want,  is  bare  and  desolate.  In  this  mood 
the  Bible  seems  to  them  but  a  congeries  of  chance  things.  And  there 
are  times  when  the  soul  throws  up  its  hands  ia  despaii",  and  gives  up 
everything. 

I  do  not  blame  these  states.  I  feel  sony  for  them.  And  among 
those  that  experience  them  there  are,  not  unfrequently,  great  and 
reverent  natures — men  who  are  making  a  transition  from  the  old  to 
the  new ;  that  is,  making  the  new  newer  than  it  was  before.  There 
must  needs  be  some  that  shall  go  through  such  passages  of  feeling. 
They  are  afraid  to  express  their  doubts,  because  there  is  nothing  less 
sympathized  with  than  doubt  and  unbelief  To  say  that  a  man  is  an 
infidel,  is  to  put  him  out  of  the  pale  of  sympathy,  almost.  And  yet,  a 
man  may  be  an  infidel,  and  be  a  better  man  than  you  are.  A  man 
may  not  reverence  the  sanctuaiy,  and  worship  the  Book,  and  give  hia 


246  SYMPATHY  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT. 

adhesion  to  creeds,  as  you  do ;  but  he  may  be  in  a  state  in  which  God 
is  preparing  him,  by  suffering,  to  lead  men  out  of  their  troubles.  The 
very  sufferings  from  fear  and  doubt  and  apprehension  through  which  a 
man  is  going  may  be  fitting  him  for  the  work  which  God  has  for  him 
to  do.  And  though  a  man  may  be  enveloped  in  the  darkness  of  un- 
belief, and  though  he  may  be  fractious  and  wayward,  and  refuse  to 
have  God  to  rule  over  him,  he  may  not  be  so  bad  as  many  who  do  be- 
lieve, and  do  not  live  up  to  the  light  which  they  have.  An  unbelief 
that  springs  from  real  honest  investigation  and  aspiration  for  higher 
truth  or  for  a  better  expression  of  universal  truth  than  they  have  ever 
had,  is  an  experience  which  few  have  sympathy  for  in  this  world.  But 
the  heart  of  God  will  take  care  of  those  that  turn  to  him  with  filial  love, 
and  will  bring  them  through  all  these  moods. 

If  there  are  any  in  this  congregation  who  are  unsettled,  sometimes 
thinking  one  thing,  and  sometimes  another,  now  going  into  churches 
that  have  the  most  outward  forms  and  visible  worship,  and  where  the 
senses  have  rest,  and  now  breaking  away  and  going  into  churches 
where  services  appeal  more  to  the  higher  reason  and  the  moral  senti- 
ments, you  may  seem  to  yourself  an  Ishmaelite,  a  vagabond,  an  unwor- 
thy wretch ;  and  yet,  you  have  not  gone  out  of  the  charmed  ckcle  of  God's 
thought  and  sympathy  and  love.  He  broods  over  you  still.  And 
though  you  let  go  of  everything  else,  do  not  let  go  of  faith  and  trust. 
Keep  the  avenue  open  between  you  and  God.  Keep  the  door  of  your 
heart  open  so  that  there  shall  be  that  intercourse  between  your  soul 
and  the  Divine  Spuit  by  which  he  shall  bring  you  safely  to  a  glorious 
issue. 

In  view  of  the  truths  thus  opened,  I  remark,  first,  that  the  admin- 
istrative power  of  the  moral  world  is  love — not  power,  and  not  penalty. 
Penalty  is  a  part  of  justice,  and  a  part  of  the  organization  of  nature. 
"We  do  not  need  to  undertake  to  prove  that  sin  brings  pain,  and  that 
pain  is  the  penalty  of  the  transgression  of  law,  and  that  it  is  a  part  of 
the  original  economy  of  God's  universe  that  sin  and  suffering  should  be 
indissolubly  connected.  The  whole  creation  is  a  witness  of  that.  All 
the  tears  that  have  been  shed  are  so  many  showers  of  the  testimony 
of  the  anguish  of  the  world.  All  its  discord,  all  its  immeasurable 
depths  of  suffering,  are  so  many  memorials. of  this  original  and  organic 
and  invisible  constitution  of  justice.  That  which  we  needed  was  not 
a  revelation  to  tell  us  that  God  was  just,  and  that  law  was  sovereign, 
and  that  disobedience  had  penalty,  and  that  penalty  would  smite  and 
work,  and  smite  and  work,  and  smite  and  work.  That  did  not  need 
to  be  revealed.  The  eye  saw  it ;  the  ear  heard  it ;  every  sense  experi- 
enced it.  Our  whole  life  has  been  but  one  voluminous  history  of  this 
original  economy  of  the  globe,  for  purposes  of  truth,  and  obedience, 


SYMPATHY  OF  TEE  DIVINE  SPIRIT.  247 

and  of  justice  followed  by  penalty.  What  we  needed  to  l^now,  was, 
that  this  was  not  the  only  nor  the  dominant  influence,  but  that  there 
was  over  all  this  a  power  which  was  something  better  than  this  to  our 
apprehension.  The  power  of  love,  and  the  power  of  sympathy,  and 
the  power  of  succor  through  sym2)athy  and  love — that  is  the  revelation 
of  the  Bible.  That  is  the  New  Testament  doctrine.  It  is  that  while 
vc  are  living  in  a  world  which  expresses  God's  organic  pui*pose  of  jus- 
ice  and  ijenalty,  we  are  also  living  in  a  world  which  is  overarched  by 
i  domestic  economy,  by  a  celestial  economy,  by  a  providence  and  a 
^race,  Avhich  work  by  the  power  of  sympathy  and  love.  So  that  while 
nature  teaches  the  justice  of  God,  and  the  punishment  of  sin,  the  Gos- 
pel teaches  the  recuperative  power  of  divine  sympathy  and  divine  love. 

Wherefore,  it  is  to  me  an  unspeakable  comfort  that  the  tendency 
of  the  historic  influence  of  the  past,  the  great  growth  of  the  future, 
and  the  wondrous  and  distinctive  peculiai'ity  of  the  day  in  which  we 
live,  is  to  work  away  from  materialism  and  sin  and  penalty,  toward 
spirituality  and  obedience  and  love.  Justice,  like  a  comet,  sweeps 
away  from  the  sun  ;  but  love,  like  that  comet  reclaimed  and  turned, 
shoots  right  toward  it.  And  we  are  on  the  way  toward  it ;  only 
when  we  reach  it,  we  shall  never  turn  and  fly  away  from  it  again. 

Therefore,  in  time  and  history  we  have  seen  the  worst.  Individu- 
als will  be  as  bad  as  they  have  been,  single  organizations  will  be  as 
bad,  nations  will  be  as  bad  ;  but,  taking  the  world  as  a  whole,  it  is  ris- 
ing, and  is  to  rise.  Ko  v:eapon  formed  against  God  shall  prosper. 
Let  men  seek  to  fill  the  earth  with  doubt  and  unbelief:  there  will  be  a 
light  put  through  that.  Let  men  seek  to  make  governments  through- 
out the  world  more  monarchical :  their  efibrts  will  be  neutralized  by  the 
march  of  the  jirinciple  of  universal  Liberty.  God's  power  will  break 
through  and  shatter  all  combinations  that  undertake  to  hinder  the  on- 
ward progress  of  the  race.  Mankind  are  yet  to  be  enfranchised.  In- 
telligence, virtue  and  moral  ins2)iration,  joined  to  the  spirit  of  God,  are 
going  to  prevail.  God  is  abi'oad  on  that  work,  and  is  working  won- 
drously,  and  working  comprehensively  far  beyond  our  perception  ; 
and  he  is  woiking  in  the  line  of  love  ;  and  he  will  work  until  he  has 
repaiied  all  the  mischief  that  has  been  done  by  sin  and  imperfection. 

I  remark,  secondly,  that  cases  of  the  longest  delayed  rejientance 
are  not  without  hope.  The  man  that  has  been  the  worst  in  life  ;  the 
man  whose  case  is  most  diflicult  of  management ;  the  man  that  has  the 
most  to  overcome  and  the  least  to  show  of  good  living,  has  encourage- 
ment to  repent  and  turn  to  God. 

There  are  a  great  many  men  who  are  reckless,  and  who  say,  "There 
is  no  use  in  your  troubling  yourself  about  me.  Go  for  others.  I  am 
a  castaway,  and  am  spoiled.  Do  not  waste  your  time  and  strength  in 
trying  to  do  anything  for  me." 


248  BYMPATET  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT. 

It  is  very  true  that  an  old  tree  can  never  be  made  to  be  like  a 
young  one.  You  cannot  train  it.  But  you  may  take  a  tree  that  is  a 
hundred  years  old,  and  that  is  dead  with  the  exception  of  one  or  two 
branches,  and  take  away  the  spent  earth  from  about  its  roots,  and  put 
fresh  soil  in  its  place,  and  prune  off  all  but  the  living  branches,  and 
give  it  a  chance  to  sprout  again,  and  it  will  thrive  and  become  a  fruit- 
growing tree  once  more ;  though  it  will  never  be  such  a  tree  as  it  would 
have  been  if  it  had  been  trained  right  from  the  start. 

A  man  may  be  dead  on  one  side,  and  dead  on  another  side ;  ha 
may  be  full  of  evil  on  this  side  and  on  that  side  ;  he  may  be  quite  be- 
yond his  own  poAver  of  recuperation  ;  but  if  he  can  be  brought  under 
the  vivifying  influence  of  the  spirit  of  God,  and  if  he  give  himself  up 
to  the  direction  of  the  divine  power,  it  is  possible  for  him,  though  he 
be  one  of  the  worst  of  men,  to  be  reformed.  The  lyingest  man  may 
become  a  truth  speaker  ;  the  hardest  drinking  man  may  become  sober; 
the  most  lecherous  man  may  become  pure  ;  the  most  deceitful  man 
may  become  upright ;  the  most  dishonest  man  may  become  honest ; 
the  most  vindictive  man  may  be  made  peaceable  and  mild.  The  eagle 
may  change  his  nature  and  the  leopard  his  spots,  in  this  new  economy 
of  divine  grace,  and  there  is  no  man  in  my  hearing  to  whom  I  may 
not  most  freely  say,  "  The  Spirit  understands  your  sins  ;  he  knows  the 
causes  from  which  they  spring ;  he  loves  you ;  he  is  the  best  friend 
you  have  in  the  universe  ;  and  if  God  be  for  you  who  can  be  against 
you  ?"  Not  your  sins,  not  the  devil,  no  tempting  influences,  can  lead 
you  to  destruction  if  once  you  commit  yourselves  to  the  hands  of  the 
living  God,  and  keep  near  to  him.  God  can  save  you,  and  nothing 
else  can. 

I  remark,  once  more,  that  this  sympathy  of  God  is  not  given  as  a 
reward  of  man's  own  well-doing  or  of  his  victory  in  the  struggles 
which  he  has  been  called  to  wage.  I  say  this  to  meet  an  almost  uni- 
versal feeling,  rather  than  conviction,  that  if  a  man  becomes  a  Christian, 
and  lives  aright,  he  shall  have  God's  favor  and  love.  Children  feel  so, 
and  young  people  feel  so,  and  grown  people  feel  so.  Men  are  ajjt  to 
say,  "  If  I  were  to  avoid  all  vices,  and  leave  off  all  faults,  and  read  the 
Bible,  and  say  my  prayers  every  day,  and  go  to  church  like  a  good 
Christian,  and  keep  Sunday,  and  watch  ray  conduct  in  every  way,  so 
that  God  should  see  that  I  was  in  earnest,  I  believe  that  he  would  give 
me  the  joy  of  his  salvation."  In  other  words,  men  have  the  notion 
that  God  holds  divine  help  as  a  premium,  and  says,  "Now  study  and 
work  ;  and  if  you  will  come  up  to  such  a  point  I  will  give  it  to  you. 
Otherwise  you  cannot  have  it."  That  is  as  if  a  physician  should  stand 
before  a  man  who  was  suffering  from  excruciating  cramps,  and  should 
hold  out  tempting  fruits  and  solacing,  refreshing  and  remedial  drinks, 


SYMPATHY  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT.  249 

and  offer  to  give  them  to  him  if  he  -svould  stop  the  cramps  and  get  up 
and  come  to  him.  If  unaided  he  could  have  sto])})ed  his  cramps  and 
walked,  he  would  not  have  sent  for  tlic  doctor,  and  would  not  have 
thanked  anybody  to  help  him.  What  he  wants  is  some  one  to  come 
to  his  side  and  minister  to  him  remedies  that  shall  relieve  his  suffer- 
ings and  restore  his  health  and  strength. 

There  is  an  impression  that  Christ  is  a  premium-giver,  and  that  he 
says,  "  If  you  will  work  and  acquire  a  capital,  then  I  will  help  you." 
No  ;  there  is  given  you  a  cajtital  to  begin  with.  "  Work  out  your  own 
salvation  with  fear  and  trembling;  for  >t  is  God  which  worketh  in  you 
both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  own  good  pleasure."  You  have  the  divine 
help  to  start  on. 

Before  any  daisy  or  violet,  before  any  blossom,  is  seen  in  the  field, 
the  sun  lies  with  its  bosom  to  the  gi'ound,  crying  to  the  flower,  and 
saying,  "  Why  tarriest  thou  so  long  V  And  day  after  day  the  sun 
comes,  and  pours  its  maternal  warmth  upon  the  earth,  and  coaxes  the 
plant  to  grow  and  bloom.  And  when  days  and  weeks  liave  passed,  the 
root  obeys  the  call,  and  sends  out  its  germ^  from  which  comes  the 
flower.  And  it  was  the  sun  that  brooded  it  into  life.  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  sun's  warmth  and  light,  the  flower  could  never  have  come  to 
itself 

So  the  Eternal  Spirit  of  God  rests  on  the  human  soul,  warming  it, 
quickening  it,  calling  it,  and  saying,  "Oh,  my  son!  where  art  thou?" 
And  at  last  it  is  this  divine  sympathy  and  brooding  influence  that  brings 
men  to  God,  and  leads  them  to  say,  "  Am  I  not  sinful  ?"  and  to  yearn 
for  something  higher  and  purer  and  holier.  It  was  God's  work.  He 
long  ago  was  working  i?i  you,  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  oxen  good 
pleasure. 

Therefore  let  me  say  to  any  man  that  wants  to  be  a  Christian,  You 
need  not  feel  that  you  must  wait  a  week  or  a  month  1  efore  you  can  be- 
gin. God  has  been  pleading  with  you  already.  It  is  he  that  gave  you 
the  thought  of  becoming  a  Christian  ;  it  is  he  that  gave  you  the  im- 
pulse to  try  to  become  one;  it  is  he  that  gave  you  the  first  slight  yearn- 
ing warmth  of  soul  which  you  experienced.  He  is  beforehand  with 
you.  And  he  will  not  wait  till  you  have  achieved  before  he  will  achieve 
for  you,  by  you,  and  in  you.  He  is  doing  exceeding  abundantly  more 
for  you  than  you  can  ask  or  think. 

To  the  guidance  of  that  good  God  let  every  soul  commit  itself  Fee- 
ble in  knowledge ;  ignorant  of  the  way  in  which  we  are  walking,  and 
of  many  things  that  hinder  our  progress  ;  blinded  as  to  truth,  and  mo- 
ral truth;  knowing  less  about  those  things  which  we  most  need  to  know 
than  we  think  we  do  ;  constantly  subject  to  oscillation  and  variation — 
to  moods  that  go  up,  and  moods  that  go  down ;  proud,  and  selfish,  and 


250  SYMPATUY  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT. 

hating  and  hateful ;  frequently  cruel  to  each  other,  and  more  cruel  to 
oui'selves,  deceiving  others,  and  striving  to  deceive  God ;  full  of  bitter- 
ness ;  of  the  earth,  earthy — oh  !  what  shall  we  do  with  such  natures  as 
ours,  if  there  be  no  sweetening  influence,  no  divine  Leader,  no  spiritu- 
al Instructor  ? 

To  that  dear  Sjjirit  of  all  light,  and  all  knowledge,  and  all  comfort, 
I  commit  you.  Put  your  heart  in  the  summer  of  divine  love,  and 
remember  that  "  all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love 
God." 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

Our  Heavenly  Father,  we  draw  near  to  thee  not  to  behold  darkness  nor 
to  hear  thunders;  for  thou  art  the  God  of  truth  and  justice;  and  thine  ad- 
ministration is  love.  That  our  souls  know  right  well.  We  have  met  togeth- 
er by  thy  power.  We  have  been  kept,  if  not  unto  salvation,  yet  in  the  way, 
and  with  the  hope,  with  the  anticipation,  and  with  many  of  the  joys  and  fore- 
tastes thereof  And  we  rejoice,  O  Lord,  our  God  !  that  that  work  which  thou 
hast  begun  in  time,  and  which  has  been  kept  back  and  hindered  by  drought, 
by  frost,  and  by  ill-timed  seasons,  shall  yet  know  a  fairer  summer,  and  shall 
spring  up  into  blossom  and  into  fruit,  by  the  side  of  the  river  of  the  water 
of  life.  It  is  in  this  hope  that  we  comfort  ourselves  all  the  way,  in  all  the 
infelicities  of  the  way — in  all  our  sorrows ;  in  all  our  infirmities ;  and  in  all 
those  sins  which  cause  us  pain.  We  look  forward  from  out  of  these  things, 
and  live  by  faith  of  the  better  land,  and  of  the  better  life,  and  of  that  better 
self  which  shall  be  ours  when  we  shall  be  where  thou  art — when  we  shall  be 
transformed.  For  now  are  we  what  yet  the  drops  are  that  hang  dark  in 
the  heaven,  unsunned  and  full  of  storm ;  and  then  shall  we  be  as  the  drops 
are  when  the  sun  shines  upon  them,  as  they  hang  upon  the  grass  or  the 
flower,  full  of  glory  and  beauty,  the  storm  having  gone  by.  Now  we  are 
hanging  in  trouble,  in  fear,  and  in  pangs  of  pain ;  now  we  are  driven  about 
by  mighty  winds  hither  and  thither;  but  then  we  shall  be  as  the  angels  of 
heaven.  Then,  standing  before  thee  in  the  light  of  knowledge,  and  in  the 
purity  of  sympathy,  and  in  the  joy  of  full  fruition,  all  thine  excellence  shall 
work  upon  us,  and  we  shall  be  satisfied.  Then  we  shall  see  thee  as  thou  art. 
Thee,  whom  we  have  fondly  longed  for,  we  shall  see  more  beautiful  than 
our  fancy  had  created  thee ;  more  august,  more  generous,  more  tender  and 
loving,  more  full  of  beauty  and  grandeur,  than  we  have  been  able  to  think 
thee.  Not  anything  shall  be  taken  away  from  thee ;  but  that  obstruction 
which  mars  our  apprehension  of  thee,  through  the  impcrfectness  of  our  un- 
derstanding, shall  be  removed.  As  they  who  look  out  upon  a  garden  ot 
wondrous  beauty,  filled  with  rare  plants  and  flowers,  through  windows  full 
of  wrinkles  and  contortions,  behold  these  things,  but  see  them  unnaturally 
reflected  ;^  and  as,  when  the  light  comes  to  them  without  interruption  of  glass, 
they  behold  the  same  things,  and  they  appear  sweet  and  perfect ;  so  we, 
seeing  through  a  glass  darkly,  distort  thee  with  lines  of  our  own  thought, 
and  of  our  own  prejudice,  and  with  the  sharp  points  of  our  sins;  but  we 
shall  behold  thee  without  any  medium  between.  We  shall  see  thee  as  thou 
art.  We  shall  see  thee  face  to  face.  We  shall  be  like  thee,  so  that  we  can 
see  thee  out  of  our  own  experience.    We  shall  interpret  thee.    And  we  shall 


STMPATEY  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT.  251 

then  be  satisfied — yea  glorified,  filled  and  overQowing  with  rapture  begun. 
And  that  experience  shall  have  no  decadence,  no  pause,  no  end. 

Now,  O  Lord !  we  pray  that  this  high  hope  may  never  die  out  of  our 
heaven,  nor  sufler  eclipse.  May  it  be  the  one  point  toward  which  we  shall 
push  with  all  the  force  of  our  life.  May  we  consider  everything  else  as  some- 
thing aside,  as  by  the  way.  May  this  one  hope  of  our  redemption,  immor- 
tality, and  glory,  in  the  heavenly  land  through  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  hang 
over  us,  as  a  guiding  star.  May  it  be  to  us  as  the  gate  of  heaven.  And 
though  at  times  it  may  be  hid  for  a  little  while,  ere  long  may  it  break  through 
every  cloud  and  storm,  to  cheer  and  comfort  us.  And  in  all  the  strife  which 
we  make  to  live  worthy  of  the  vocation  wherewith  we  are  called,  be  thou 
on  our  side.  How  many  and  how  mighty  are  our  adversaries !  IIow  much 
we  contest  the  visible  by  things  invisible !  May  we  believe  that  thou  art 
not  far  from  any  one  of  us,  and  that  thou  art  carrying  our  armor  for  us, 
and  inspiring  our  courage,  and  aiding  the  stroke  of  our  hands,  so  that  we 
shall  be  conquerors  and  more  than  conquerors  through  Ilim  that  loved  us. 

May  we  not  desire  to  separate  ourselves  from  the  symiiathy  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ — no,  not  for  one  moment.  May  we  be  able  to  do  those  things 
that  please  thee,  so  that,  standing  by  our  side,  we  shall  see  thy  face  smiling 
upon  us.  May  we  avoid  everything  of  which  we  cannot  speak  to  thee,  and 
on  which  we  cannot  ask  thy  blessing.  Help  us  to  overcome  our  sin  and  our 
inward  badness,  and  what  remains  of  earthiness  in  us.  And  may  we  seek 
more  and  more  to  fill  our  life  and  nature  with  those  holy  passions  which 
shall  bring  us  into  sympathy  and  accord  with  thee  and  thy  heavenly  host. 
Bless  this  assembly  that  are  gathered  together  here  this  morning.  Hear 
their  confession  of  their  sins.  Hear  the  silent  confessions  of  waiting  hearts, 
and  hearts  weighed  down  with  imperfection  and  weakness.  And  we  pray 
that  thou  wilt  inspire  hope  in  all  those  that  desire  to  forsake  evil.  ^lay  they 
see  that  the  way  to  virtue  is  straight  and  narrow ;  and  that  God  stands 
therein  to  help  them  ;  and  that  he  will  never  leave  them  nor  forsake  them  ; 
and  that  he  will  love  them  with  more  than  a  father's  love,  and  strengthen 
them  with  the  might  of  the  everlasting  God.  And  may  none  be  afraid  to 
turn  from  evil  unto  the  pure  way.  Illay  all  feel  that  in  turning  toward  thee, 
they  turn  toward  power,  and  wisdom,  and  sympathy,  and  all  gathering  good- 
ness. 

And  we  pray,  OLord !  if  there  be  those  in  thy  presence  who  are  in  sor- 
row or  bereavement,  who  are  in  manifold  affliction,  that  they  may  find  the 
communion  of  the  Spirit  refreshing  and  comforting  to  their  souls.  For  thou 
art  the  Consoler.  Thou  art  the  Comforter.  Ten  thousand  hast  thou  com- 
forted in  prison,  on  the  scaff"old,  in  the  wilderness,  on  beds  of  sickness,  in 
solitary  places.  Thou  hast  comforted  the  home-sick  and  the  heart-broken. 
O,  Lord,  the  Comforter!  how  great  has  been  thy  work  upon  the  earth! 
How  full  has  the  world  been  of  thee!  How  wondrous  has  been  the  admin- 
istration of  thy  grace!  What  dear  and  beauteous  hours  have  descended 
into  dark  days  1  What  angelic  experiences  have  come  to  men  in  prisons  ! 
And  how  liast  thou  taught  men  the  blessings  of  sufiering  and  sorrow,  and 
made  them  strong  in  weakness!  May  they  be  rich  in  poverty,  and  may 
they  have  joy  in  sorrow.  Thou  hast  not  forgotten  the  sacred  lesson.  Thou  art 
the  Comforter  still.  Not  as  one  man  is  comforter  to  another  art  thou; 
l»ut  tliy  comforting  inlluence  is  spread  all  abroad  through  the  heaven 
and  the  earth,  among  all  the  sorrowing.  Thou  dost  love  with  divine  and 
sacred  energy,  and  dost  grant  consolation  to  all  that  are  in  trouble.  And  if 
there  are  any  to-day  who  are  in  bereavement  or  sorrow,  and  all  of  whose 
memory  when  they  turn  to  the  past  is  dark,  O  Lord !  give  them  release; 
or,  give  them  thy  presence,  if  it  be  better  that  they  should  yet  endure  chas- 
tisement. 

We  besceh  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  those  who  are  tried  by  their  cares 
and  perplexities.     May  they  still  have  strength  valiantly  to  do  the  work 


252  SYMPATHY  OF  THE  DIVINE  SPIRIT. 

which  is  appointed  in  thy  providence  for  them,  and  to  persevere  unto  the 
end. 

We  pray  that  there  may  be  many  and  many  of  us  who  shall  be  builders 
in  the  day  in  which  we  dwell,  establishing  blessed  institutions  in  society 
upon  foundations  which  shall  go  on  generations  after  they  are  gathered  to 
their  fathers,  working  for  the  amelioration  of  men. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  those  who  are  laboring  in  the  Sunday- 
school  and  in  the  Bible-classes.  Bless  the  labors  of  those  who  are  going  from 
house  to  house,  or  into  the  highways,  to  minister  to  those  that  are  not  gath- 
ered into  the  sanctuary.  And  grant  that  they  may  have  the  Sacred  Spirit 
and  inspiration  of  God  upon  them.  Teach  them  both  to  love  and  teach. 
Bless  all  the  Churches  that  are  gathered  together  this  day  in  this  city,  and 
in  the  great  city  near  us,  and  throughout  all  our  land.  We  pray  that  thy  ser- 
vants may  be  prepared  to  preach  the  Gospel  with  more  understanding  and 
sympathy  and  power.  May  revivals  of  religion  break  out  on  every  side, 
and  spread  through  all  our  land,  and  stay  the  mighty  evils  and  the  mighty 
temptations  to  unbelief  and  doubt  which  are  setting  in.  Grant  that  there 
may  come  this  twilight  of  faith  ;  and  more  and  more  may  the  heart  prove 
mightier  to  reason  than  the  head,  so  that  all  men  may  receive  the  truth  unto 
salvation. 

Bless  we  pray  thee,  the  government  of  these  United  States.  Bless  the 
President,  and  all  who  are  in  authority  with  him.  Bless  the  Congress  as- 
sembled, and  the  Legislatures  of  the  various  States.  May  they  devise  things 
wise  and  honest.  And  grant,  we  beseech  of  thee,  that  our  magistrates  every- 
where may  be  God-fearing  men,  who  shall  administer  the  trusts  reposed  in 
them  with  love  toward  their  fellow  men,  and  with  sacred  fidelity.  May 
this  nation  grow  purer  with  age,  and  with  strength  more  humane.  May  it 
not  tread  down  the  weak  and  helpless,  but  be  the  benefactor  of  nations. 
And  may  its  example  kindle  hojie  in  other  lands.  Lead  men  step  by  step 
through  virtue  to  irue  piety.  And  at  last  may  thy  word,  long  delayed,  be 
fulfilled,  and  the  earth  see  thy  salvation. 

We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake.     Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMOK 

Our  Father,  we  pray  that  thy  blessing  may  rest  upon  the  word  spoken. 
Grant  that  there  may  be  some  souls  drawn  to  make  experience  of  thy  love 
and  thoughtful  care.  In  thee  we  live.  We  have  our  being  in  thee.  We 
desire  to  rejoice  in  the  Lord.  We  desire  to  be  strong  in  thee.  We  desire tc 
walk  in  thy  strength.  And  when,  at  last,  through  thine  unspeakable  favor 
we  shall  have  accomplished  the  duty  of  our  life,  and  passed  by  its  wide  and 
dreary  Teachings,  grant  that  we  may  be  admitted  into  thine  heavenly  king- 
dom, to  dwell  forever  with  the  Lord. 

And  to  thy  name,  Father,  Son  and  Si)irit,  shall  be  praise  everlasting. 
Amm. 


XIV. 

Conflicts  of  the  Christian  Life. 


INVOCATON. 


June  13, 1870. 

LIFT  npon  us  this  morning  the  light  o£  thy  countenance,  and  out  of 
all  our  darkness  and  doubt  bring  ns  into  the  brightness  of  the  light  of 
thy  love  and  favor.  Thou  that  dost  dispel  the  storm,  and  out  of  clouds  and 
darkness  bring  forth  the  sweet  cheer  of  the  new  made  day,  bring  to  us  again 
the  light,  the  joy,  and  the  peace  of  thy  salvation.  May  wanderers  this  morn- 
ing come  home.  May  dispersed  children  find  their  Father's  house.  May  all 
that  are  drooping  in  sorrow  lift  up  their  head.  For,  behold  their  morning 
ha  h  come.  And  may  this  sanctuary  be  filled  with  thy  presence.  And  may 
thy  power  be  mightily  displayed  here.  Bless  us  in  our  songs  of  rejoicing. 
Bless  us  in  the  communion  of  prayer.  Bless  us  in  reading  thy  word,  and  in 
meditations  thereupon,  and  in  the  oflBces  of  instruction  derived  from  it. 
Bless  us  as  we  go  forth  again  and  find  our  several  homes.  And  whether  iu 
the  sanctuary  or  in  our  own  places,  grant  that  we  may  have  the  spirit  of 
liberty,  of  joy,  and  of  hope.    And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise.    Amen, 

14 


CONFLICTS  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 


"  Wherein  ye  greatly  rejoice,  though  now  for  a  season,  if  need  be,  ye  are 
in  heaviness  through  mauifold  temptations:  that  the  trial  of  your  faith, 
being  much  more  precious  than  of  gold  that  perisheth,  though  it  be  tried 
with  fire,  might  be  found  unto  praise  and  honor  and  glory  at  the  appearing 
of  Jesus  Christ."—!  Pet.  I.  G,  7. 


It  is  here  recognized  that  though  a  Christian  has  manifold  joys  and 
exhilarations  in  his  career,  he  is  subject  to  occasional  "  heaviness,"  or 
heart-sadness,  "  through  manifold  temptations."  But  it  is  recognized 
that  such  experiences  belong  to  the  veiy  idea  of  piety,  which  is  a  pro- 
cess by  which  the  spiritual  in  man  gains  a  complete  ascendency  over 
the  physical.  And  as  the  gold  that  is  in  the  rock  is  subjected,  first  to 
severe  blows,  by  which  it  is  comminuted,  and  then  to  the  action  of  va- 
rious agents,  and  to  the  flame,  in  order  that  it  may  be  extracted  from 
its  gross  accompaniments,  and  become  pure ;  so  there  is  in  man  true 
spiritual  gold,  a  spiritual  element,  a  spiritual  nature,  that  is  to  be  sepa- 
rated from  the  lower  and  grosser  elements  of  his  being.  And  there  is, 
in  the  providence  of  God,  and  in  the  scheme  of  grace,  an  economy  by 
which  this  work  is  accomplished.  It  is  clearly  taught  that  there  is, 
throughout  the  Christian  life,  the  element  of  conflict,  the  element  of 
trial, — the  elements  of  temptation  and  suffering;  and  that  these  are 
not  accidental ;  that  they  are  not  simj^ly  incidental  to  certain  circum- 
stances ;  that  they  inhere  in  the  innermost  nature  of  the  work  that  is  to 
be  done  ;  that  they  so  much  belong  to  it,  that  they  who  have  none  of 
these  conflicts  have  no  right  to  suppose  that  they  are  Christians.  They 
are  not  sons  unless  God  deals  with  them  as  he  deals  with  all  whom 
he  is  purifying  and  preparing  for  glory. 

This  experience  may  be  gradual,  diffusive,  resulting  at  length  in 
certain  growths  and  ripenings  and  attainments.  Or,  it  may  be  critical, 
peremptory.  Usually  it  is  both.  We  are  can-ied  through  a  series  of  train- 
ings which  are  at  work  upon  us  all  the  time — minute  influences;  a 
thousand  attritions  of  care  ;  a  thousand  little  events  of  sorrow ;  a  thou- 
sand disai^pointments,  each  of  which  in  itself  is  trifling,  but  the  ag- 
gregate of  which  is  most  important  in  its  result  upon  our  normal  de- 

SuMiAT  MoRNiKO,  Jime  12, 1870.    Lesson  :  Matt.  V.  IIyukb  (Tlymonth  Collection) ,  No* 
1344.  laaj.  7;;3. 


254  CONFLICTS  OF  TUB  CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 

velopment — evolving,  unfolding,  and  confirming  the  inherent  strength 
of  character. 

But  then,  besides  the  strong  natures,  there  are  natures  that  are 
disproportionately  formed  and  unbalanced,  natures  that  in  their  early 
experience  were  brought  up  unfortunately,  that  go  through  more  critical 
experiences  stilL  Every  single  element  in  them,  first  or  last,  has  to  un- 
dergo a  severe  trial  to  see  whether  it  shall  be  subdued,  and  lose  the 
rankness  and  coarseness  and  harshness  of  its  natural  flavor,  and  become 
perfectly  sweetened  by  the  Christ-element  that  is  to  be  in  every  one. 

This  element  of  conflict  is  therefore  universal,  in  that  it  belongs  to 
all.  It  is  universal,  also,  in  that  it  belongs  to  every  part  of  our  nature 
— though  it  is  not  the  same  in  degree  at  all  times,  nor  to  all  persons. 

Such  spiritual  conflicts  exist,  I  have  said,  in  a  general  and  continu- 
ous way ;  but,  as  in  our  text,  it  is  recognized  that  there  are  special 
trials,  and  special  times  of  trial.  There  are  periods  when  out  of  joy 
men  come  into  great  "  heaviness"  and  sadness.  The  whole  color  of  a 
man's  life  is  frequently  determined  by  some  special  trial  or  conflict 
which  he  goes  through,  for  days,  and  for  weeks,  and  for  months,  and 
sometimes  even  for  years.  And  the  critical  passages  of  a  man's  his- 
tory are  not  the  outward  happenings,  but  the  inward,  invisible,  unjour- 
nalized,  unspoken,  and  almost  unknown  experiences  thi'ough  which 
the  heart  passes. 

When  men  are  called  into  the  Christian  life,  they  do  not  come  in  as 
experts  and  veterans.  They  come  in  as  recruits,  to  be  drilled.  And  all 
their  campaign  lies  before  them.  The  victory  of  our  faith  is  gained 
step  by  step  ;  and  the  great  personal  epochs  in  om*  history  are  those  in 
which  the  good  principle,  after  severe  conflict,  gains  ascendency  ovei 
the  evil  that  is  in  us. 

In  order  that  we  may  look  the  more  fully  into  this  general  truth,  I 
will  specialize,  and  show,  not  by  any  means  all  the  conflicts  through 
which  men  go,  but  some  of  the  special  ones. 

1.  Men  often  pass  through  scenes  which  thoroughly  awaken  them  to 
the  higher  spiritual  life.  For  many  persons  glide  into  a  religious  life,  I 
had  almost  said,  unconsciously.  I  do  not  mean  that  there  is  not  a 
point  of  time  when  men  choose,  and  determine  ;  but  the  choice  is  so 
feeble  in  some  natures,  and  the  gradations  are  so  small,  that  while  they 
are  consciously  religious — that  is,  purposed  to  live  according  to  the  rules 
of  Christ — yet  their  life  is  not  fairly  stirred  up.  They  are  like  men 
who,  being  awaked  in  the  morning  before  they  have  finished  theu* 
sleep,  though  they  are  awake  and  dressed,  and  though  they  move 
about,  move  as  sleep-walkers.  And  frequently  it  is  the  case  that  there 
happen  to  such  persons  expei'iences  in  any  of  a  hundred  ways — to  some 
experiences  of  joy,  and  to  others  experiences  of  sorrow;  to  some  crushing 


CONFLICTS  OF  TEE  CURISTIAN  LIFE.  255 

afflictions,  and  to  others  stimulating  afflictions ;  or,  not  afflictions,  but 
strifes;  vehement  pressures  on  tlie  one  side  and  on  the  other;  the  intro- 
duction  of  elements  that  wake  up  a  depressed  life  in  the  soul,  and  bring 
men  out  finally  into  a  liiglier,  cleai'er,  stronger  light — so  that  though 
they  could  not  say  that  they  were  not  Christians  before,  they  are  con- 
scious that  they  have  now  come  to  a  level  and  to  a  height  of  spiritual 
realization  which  they  did  not  reach  in  the  earlier  periods  of  their 
lives.  And  those  who  have  been  brought  as  children,  quite  young, 
and  without  adequate  instruction,  into  the  communion  of  the  church  ; 
those  who  have,  by  the  exterior  elements  and  appliances  of  the  church, 
been  held  to  an  outward  conformity  with  the  Christian  life,  frequently 
come  to  a  period  in  which  their  souls  are  put  thi'ough  a  furnace  of  trial. 
Sometimes  it  seems  as  though  they  never  before  had  been  convinced  of 
sin ;  as  though  they  had  never  before  really  had  faith  in  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  And  they  walce  up  into  a  positiveness  and  clearness  of 
faith.  And  there  frequently  is  a  richness  of  experience  which  leads 
them  to  say  that  they  were  deceived  before.  But  they  were  not  neces- 
sarily deceived.  For  this  is  the  peculiar  method  by  which  men  are 
brought  to  the  full  disclosures  of  a  Christian  life.  And  though  it  is 
the  peculiar  method,  it  is  more  universal,  in  this  respect,  than  the  reg- 
ular and  normal  method. 

Men  frequently  progress  in  religious  life  as  travelers  used  to  on  old 
canals.  They  ran  along  upon  a  lower  level,  seeing  only  the  valley 
through  which  they  were  jiassing,  and  thus  came  to  some  lock,  in 
which  they  rose,  step  by  step,  and  thus  came  to  a  higher  level,  with 
a  larger  outlook,  a  wider  prospect.  Along  this  level  they  ran  for  a 
time  until  they  came  to  another  lock  ;  and  in  that  rose  up  to  the  sum- 
mit level,  where  they  could  look  over  all  the  country  round  about, 
Avhich  they  had  never  seen  before.  At  first,  though  they  were  ad- 
vancing, it  was  upon  a  low  line  of  progress ;  but  at  last  they  were 
brought  up  where  they  had  more  extended  ranges  of  vision. 

There  are  experiences  which  befall  men,  sometimes  by  grief  and 
sometimes  by  moral  strifes  and  struggles,  through  which  they  rise  from 
a  lower  spiritual  state  to  a  very  much  liigher,  more  appreciative  and 
more  intense  spiritual  condition. 

2.  Men  frequently  pass  through  crises  in  which  they  are  at  war 
with  some  special  element  in  themselves.  There  are  certain  faculties^ 
different  in  different  men,  that  stand  in  the  way  of  the  development  of 
the  Christ-like  life.  In  some  it  is  temper,  quick,  violent,  imperious,, 
cruel,  plunging  them  sometimes  into  gi-eat  trouble,  and  sometimes  into, 
an  anguish  which  stands  right  in  the  way  of  a  consistent  Christian  life.. 
There  are  many  who  make  but  very  little  headway  in  this  conflict, 
until,  sometimes  by  one  method,  sometimes  by  another,  and  sometimes^ 


256  CONFLICTS  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 

perhaps,  as  a  sequence  of  the  very  temper  itself,  they  are  brought  to  a 
sense  of  theh'  weakness  in  this  respect,  and  to  pain  and  suflering  in 
consequence  of  the  violations  of  that  unreclaimed  and  unsubdued  pas- 
sion. And  they  are  not  merely  in  "  heaviness,"  but  in  bondage  and  in 
torment. 

The  hindering  affliction  may  arise  from  loss  of  property,  or  loss  of 
friends,  or  loss  of  respect.  It  may  be  some  great  and  trying  affliction 
that  men  are  drawn  into  by  passion.  It  may  come  in  a  hundred  forms. 
But  the  root  of  it,  and  the  work  that  goes  on  in  connection  with  it,  is 
one  which  makes  sinful  or  evil  a  man's  imperious  and  wicked  disposition. 

There  is  many  and  many  a  man  who  rages  like  the  demoniac  in  Ga- 
dara,  who  dwelt  among  the  tombs,  and  who,  when  bound  with  cords  and 
chains,  snapped  the  one  and  broke  the  other,  and  who  day  and  night 
cried  out  exceedingly,  and  cut  himself  with  stones,  till  he  met  the 
exorcising  Christ ;  and  then  cried  out  with  yet  wilder  exclamations, 
until  finally  he  was  subdued,  and  the  evil  spirit  was  cast  out  of  him, 
and  he  was  clothed,  and  was  found  sitting  in  his  right  mind  at  the  feet ' 
of  Jesus. 

All  this  process  is  often  blind  to  those  experiencing  it.  And  to 
other  men  it  seems  a  great  evil.  But  in  the  midst  of  the  darkness  and 
swirl  of  these  inward  experiences,  one  of  the  greatest  battles  of  the  soul 
is  being  carried  on,  varying,  fluctuating,  now  gaining  ground,  and  now 
losing  ground,  so  that  at  times  there  is  great  doubt  as  to  its  issue.  Yet 
it  is  a  memorable  battle  for  life  and  for  immortality.  There  is  great 
"  heaviness  "  and  great  anguish,  for  a  time,  to  the  sufierers ;  but  this  is 
a  trial  of  then-  "faith  which  is  more  precious  than  gold."  And  it  is  a 
trial  which,  if  they  understand  that  they  are  workers  together  with  God, 
will  be  a  crisis  giving  them  a  truer  life  and  a  nobler  liberty.  And 
though  they  seem  to  be  broken,  they  are  only  broken  as  flax  is  broken, 
that  it  may  become  the  linen  thread,  to  be  wrought  into  the  Avhiie 
raiment  of  the  saints. 

3.  So,  too,  for  persons  who  sin  by  the  tongue,  there  are  crises 
in  Christian  experience  which  gather  around  about  that  member. 
For  the  tongue,  though  it  is  the  instrument  from  which  come  words 
of  prudence  and  kindness  and  benevolence,  is  also  an  organ  that  minis- 
ters to  frivolity  and  vanity.  It  is  the  creature  of  lies  ;  it  is  the  perpe- 
trator of  slanders ;  it  is  the  propagator  of  wicked  stories ;  it  gives 
cun-ency  to  seductive  imaginations,  whisperings,  backbitings,  revelings, 
•oaths,  and  bad  influences  of  every  kind.  The  evil  tongue,  we  are  told, 
is  an  organ  which,  like  the  wild  beast,  can  scarcely  be  reclaimed  or 
tamed.  It  is  a  member  which,  when  it  has  its  freedom,  often  gives 
itself  to  the  ministration  of  lusts  and  passions.  It  is  the  chimney  of 
the  soul,  and  of  the  lower  nature,  and  is  full  of  soot  and  blackuesa. 


CONFLICTS  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE.  257 

Now,  if  men  are  addicted  to  the  evil  of  the  tongue ;  if  there  is  a 
tendency  iu  them  to  break  out  and  give  articulate  form  to  all  that  is 
mischievious  in  their  nature,  then  there  must  be  some  way  or  other  of 
meeting  this  evil.  They  are  not  Christians;  or,  if  they  are,  there  must 
be  a  iiglit.  Their  victory  may  be  little  by  little  helped  by  age  ;  it  may 
be  helped  by  one  and  another  modifying  influence  and  circumstance  ; 
but  more  frequently  it  will  go  on  by  a  series  of  conflicts.  And  often- 
times there  is  a  conflict  which  is  the  critical  passage  of  one's  whole 
life  ;  and  the  temper  is  trained ;  and  the  disposition  seems  largely  to  be 
changed  ;  and  the  whole  of  the  man's  nature  seems  to  have  been  trans- 
formed. 

How  many  men  there  are  whose  mouths  were  once  fountains  of 
bitterness,  but  which  after  having  gone  through  seasons  of  great 
trial  and  affliction  were  fountains  of  sweet  watei's,  and  waters  of 
life  !  How  many  men  there  are  whose  mouths  were  as  the  abysa 
of  hell,  or  as  the  craters  of  volcanoes  which  belch  forth  lava,  but  Avhose 
tongues  afterwai'ds  became  ministers  only  of  love,  and  things  pure,  and 
true,  and  gentle,  and  instructive,  as  the  fruit  of  a  great  struggle,  and 
of  a  great  victory  ! 

4.  At  the  same  time,  and  in  the  same  way,  every  man  who  is  in 
bondage  to  selfishness  and  avarice  will,  if  he  be  a  child  of  God,  get 
out  of  that  captivity.  If  he  be  a  child  of  God,  and  he  will  suffer  him- 
self to  be  led  gently  by  the  progi'ess,  as  it  were,  of  the  summer  of  the 
soul,  the  word  of  instruction,  in  his  daily  ministration  of  thought  and 
feeling  to  himself,  will  be  sufficient.  If  a  man  has  this  avarice,  this 
greed,  this  selfishness,  that  shuts  him  up  from  his  fellows,  and  leads, 
him  to  use  all  the  power  that  inheres  in  wealth  and  its  relations  for  his. 
own  good,  and  he  be  a  child  of  God,  there  must  come  a  time  when  it 
shall  be  declared  whether  the  Lord  reigns,  or  Mammon.  And  it  must 
be  declared  on  this  very  ground,  where  the  man  finds  it  hardest.  If  it 
may  be  treated  more  mildly,  and  the  work  may  be  comj)leted  by  the 
gradual  and  ordinary  process  of  a  divine  grace,  well  and  good  ;  but, 
either  a  man  is  not  a  child  of  God,  or  there  must  be  afflictions,  and 
there  must  be  a  fight  on  this  ground,  until  every  thought  and  feeling 
is  subdued  to  Christ.  There  can  be  no  part  of  our  nature  left  without 
its  appropriate  battle. 

How  many  times  do  I  see  this  conflict  going  on  in  men !  And 
how  many  know  not  what  God  is  doing  for  them  and  in  them  !  Some- 
times God  sends  his  ministrations  to  us  angelically.  As  l^eter  was  led  out 
of  prison  by  an  angel,  the  doors  opening  before  them,  and  letting  themi 
fi-ee  into  the  street,  so  sometimes  God  delivers  men  from  bondage  by 
sending  to  them  a  messenger  of  gentleness,  of  mercy  and  of  love. 
And  as  at  other  times  apostles  were  brought  foith  in  the  market-place^ 


258  CONFLICTS  OF  TEE  CEBISTIAN  LIFE. 

and  were  mobbed,  and  scourged,  and  reviled  and  threatened,  so  we  are 
brought  forth  in  our  bondage,  and  are,  by  the  various  trials  of  life,  and 
by  the  ministration  of  divine  providence,  taxed  severely,  and  punished, 
it  seems  to  us  more  than  we  deserve.  Oh  no ;  there  must  be  some  con- 
flict, and  that  conflict  will  have  its  root,  its  centre,  and  its  whole  life  in 
the  purpose  of  deliverence  from  our  bondage.  And  although  men  are 
frequently  desolated  as  in  a  moment,  and  all  theu'  life's  ambition  is 
smitten,  they  are  infinite  gainers. 

There  is  many  a  man  who  inordinately  seeks  prosperity  for  him- 
self, and  whose  avarice  and  selfishness  are  irreclaimable  until,  in 
God's  mercy,  his  prosperity  is  smitten,  and  his  means  are  scattered, 
and  he  is  as  other  men,  and  hope  departs  from  him,  and  he  says,  at 
last,  in  himself,  "  I  give  up  the  idea  of  being  what  I  always  meant  to 
be."  Bitter  is  the  struggle,  bitter  is  the  humiliation  to  his  pride,  bitter 
is  the  outcry  which  his  feelings  make  within  him ;  but  after  all,  the 
crisis  has  come.  God  has  humbled  him,  and  he  has  said  within  him- 
self, "  I  give  up  the  ambition  ;  I  yield  the  purpose  ;  I  will  be  content, 
now,  to  live  and  fulfill  my  duty  to  my  household,  and  do  what  good  I 
can  to  my  fellow  men,  and  save  my  soul." 

People  say,  "  Oh !  his  spirit  is  broken."  Yes,  blessed  be  God,  the 
evil  sjiirit  in  him  is  broken.  His  ambition  is  broken.  He  is  no  longer 
the  same  fierce  man  that  he  was ;  he  is  no  longer  the  same  restless 
man ;  he  is  no  longer  the  same  scheming,  calculating  man ;  he  is  no 
longer  a  man  that  puts  such  inordinate  stress  on  property  and  means 
in  this  world.  He  has  yielded  these.  And  it  is  the  great  victory  of 
his  life.  It  is  a  victory  out  of  which  comes  peace  and  joy  in  this 
life,  and  in  the  life  to  come  glory  and  honor  and  endless  happiness. 

In  great  "  heaviness"  may  one  well  be,  if  God  is  trying  his  faith ; 
if  God  is,  by  leading  him  through  conflicts,  developing  in  him  a  reli- 
gious life  such  as  is  disclosed  by  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  And  when  he 
has  gone  through  sufierings  and  trials  and  crushings,  the  victory  which 
he  has  gained  is  worth  more  than  all  this  life  put  together. 

5.  There  is,  first  or  last,  also,  in  every  child  of  God,  a  conflict  of 
the  afiections.  For  our  afiections  are  not  God-ward,  usually.  They 
spread  themselves  as  vines  that  creep  upon  the  gi-ound.  They  have  to 
be  taught  to  climb.  They  are  idolatrous.  They  almost  make  us  woi'- 
shipers  of  one  thing.  They  need  to  be  spiritualized.  We  need  to  lift 
up  om-  hearts  till  they  become  fixed,  not  simply  on  the  life  that  now 
is,  but  on  the  life  that  is  to  come.  In  other  words,  our  afi'ections, 
bright^  sweet,  pure,  gracious,  as  they  are,  even  in  the  natural  state,  are 
yet  untrained  and  unchristianized.  And  though  a  man,  when  he  is 
brought  into  a  Christian  life,  purposes  to  live  for  Christ,  yet  each  part 
tof  him  must  go  through  a  discipline  to  enable  him  to  do  it.     The  dis- 


CONFLICTS  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE.  259 

cipline  of  the  affections  seems  the  strongest  and  the  most  wonderful ; 
yet  there  is  no  discipline  that  is  more  essential  or  more  merciful.  It  is 
not  for  the  present  joyous, but  grievous  ;  it  seems  hard;  and  yet  it  Is 
necessary  and  beneficent. 

"When  birds  have  hatched  their  young,  the  nest  is  not  large  enough 
for  them  ;  and  they  must  needs  learn  to  fly.  It  seems  hard  for  the  old 
bird  to  shoulder  them  out,  and  let  them,  if  they  cannot  catch  upon 
some  branch,  fall  to  the  ground ;  but  it  is  a  part  of  the  parental  instinct 
of  kindness  in  the  old  bird  to  teach  the  young  bird  how  to  use  its 
■svdngs.  The  young  bird  is  well  fed  and  cared  for,  but  it  is  not  allowed 
to  remain  long  in  the  nest.  The  nest  is  good  as  a  place  to  be  born  in, 
but  beyond  that  it  is  of  very  little  worth.  What  kind  of  a  bird  would 
that  be  which  never  got  out  of  its  nest,  and  never  tasted  the  upper  au', 
and  never  sung  in  the  forest-top,  and  never  felt  the  liberty  and  power 
of  swinging  at  its  own  will  through  the  au*  ? 

The  human  heart,  made  to  be  larger  than  this  life,  needs  to  be 
taught  how  to  regard  the  other  life  as  the  real  one ;  and  must  be 
taught,  in  loving,  to  love  in  such  a  way  that  there  shall  be  immortality  and 
spirituality  in  its  affection  ;  in  such  a  way  that  its  loving  shall  be  not  for 
time,  but  for  eternity.  For  we  tend  to  love  so  that  the  affections  do  not 
reach  beyond  death ;  so  that  the  grave  seems  like  a  pit  of  despair.  Where- 
as, true  love  points  upward.  It  gives  us,  as  this  world  and  the  present 
life  grow  less  and  less,  a  larger  and  larger  comprehension  of  sj^iritual 
being  and  eternity.  So  that  when  we  have  been  living  for  ourselves 
and  for  om-  household,  thanking  God,  to  be  sure,  for  our  children,  and 
trying  to  rear  them,  as  best  we  may,  for  honor  or  immortality,  and  yet 
after  all,  loving  them  as  idols,  God  descends  in  great  mercy,  though 
robed  in  darkness,  and  he  smites  down  the  pride  of  the  household ;  he 
takes  the  beloved  of  the  cradle ;  he  desolates  us.  And  then  is  the 
question  between  the  heart  and  God ;  then  is  the  crying ;  then  is  the 
anguish  ;  then  are  the  resistances ;  then  is  the  darkness ;  then  is  the 
half-resignation  ;  then  is  the  pleading ;  till  by-and-by  there  comes  an 
hour  in  which  the  affections  say,  *'  Even  so,  Lord  Jesus,  reign  over 
us."  And  through  the  crisis  the  heart  comes  out  on  the  other  side, 
not  with  less  love,  but  chastened,  regulated,  spiritualized,  subdued  to 
Christ.  And  when  one  has  come  to  this  experience  in  his  affections, 
the  blessedness  of  it,  the  wealth  of  it  here,  the  promise  of  it  in  the  life 
that  is  to  come,  is  worth  eveiy  single  pang,  every  single  tear  and  every 
single  groan  that  it  has  cost.     It  is  good  to  be  afHicted. 

6.  Tlien  there  are  men  of  dominant  pride  and  of  concomitant  van- 
ity, who,  at  some  time  or  other,  have  to  go  through  a  crisis.  If  the 
gradual  influences  and  ameliorations  of  religion  do  not  transform  them, 
then  there  must  come  a  time  when  they  ai"e  to  go  into  conflict     And 


260  CONFLICTS  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 

this  may  take  place  in  a  thousand  ways.  God  is  neVer  at  g  loss  for 
means.  Men  go  through  great  and  humbling  mistakes,  and  even  sins. 
David  did.  Solomon  did.  The  prophets  did.  The  apostles  themselves 
"were  not  unimpeachable  men.  They  were  frequently  left  to  fall  into  mis- 
takes. They  had  imperfections  as  well  as  other  men  ;  and  they  had  to 
go  through  a  process  of  discipline  before  they  were  rid  of  those  im- 
pei'fections.  God  in  his  providence  brings  men  into  circumstances 
where  they  lose  their  reputation  ;  where  they  seem  to  themselves  to  be 
cast  down  from  eminence,  and  to  be  outcasts  ;  where  they  are  restrain- 
ed ;  where  their  sphere  is  circumscribed ;  and  where  all  that  has  been 
bright  and  cheerful  to  them,  is  dark  and  gloomy.  Men  oftentimes  find 
that  all  the  paths  and  courses  which  they  have  marked  out  for  them- 
selves are  closed  to  them.  One  finds  himself  crippled  in  his  ambition. 
He  had  marked  out  for  himself  the  acquisition  of  means.  He  had  in- 
tended to  be  prospered,  it  may  be,  through  wealth ;  but  his  prospects  for 
wealth  are  destroyed.  Another  man  meant  to  be  active  and  efficient 
in  a  certain  sphere  of  life  ;  but  his  health  is  broken  down,  or  the  stroke 
of  maiming  and  crippling  has  fallen  upon  him.  Or,  one  may  become 
blind.  There  are  a  thousand  ways  in  which  one  may  be  subdued  by 
the  providence  of  God,  so  that  whereas  he  was  filled  with  strength, 
and  ambition,  and  boundless  purposes  of  self-aggrandizement,  now,  as 
a  consequence  of  circumstances  which  have  befallen  him,  he  finds  him- 
self shut  up  to  deprivation  and  sufiering ;  and  the  strongest  part  of  his 
nature  seems  to  be  the  very  one  on  which  the  hand  of  the  Lord  is  laid. 
And  he  goes  through  a  great  and  fiery  trial,  and  a  trial  sometimes 
terrific,  according  to  the  stubbornness  of  his  disposition.  And  finally 
he  ceases  to  resist  the  divine  will. 

There  is  many  a  man  that  at  last  yields  his  pride  to  the  Lord ;  yields 
himself  to  the  providence  of  God  ;  follows  the  guidance  of  the  divine 
hand.  And  out  of  this  whole  conflict  comes  the  purification  of  his 
faith,  which  is  more  precious  than  the  purification  of  gold  itself 

7.  God  teaches  us  what  all  need, but  what  so  few  gain  by  their  own 
voluntary  purpose—  -long-suffering  patience,  gentleness,  meekness.  How 
many,  so  long  as  they  are  surrounded  by  prosperity,  live  with  an  un- 
subdued nature,  although  they  are  in  many  things  Christian !  For 
Christians  are  very  much  like  farms.  Usually,  at  first,  settlers  clear  up 
and  cultivate  about  ten  acres  of  ground,  just  around  the  house.  Of 
the  whole  hundred  and  sixty  aci'es,  only  about  ten  or  twenty  acres  are 
redeemed  from  the  wilderness  during  the  first  year  or  two.  After  that 
it  is  customary  to  cut  away  five  acres  or  so  a  year.  And  gradually  the 
farm  becomes  subdued.  But  it  is  seldom  that  a  farm  is  redeemed  and 
cultivated  alike  in  all  its  parts. 

So  God  deals  with  us.     Little  by  little,  and  through  many  degrees, 


I  CONFLICTS  OF  THE  CnPJSTIAN  LIFE.  261 

he  clears  up  the  various  parts  of  our  nature,  and  subdues  them  from 
the  wilderness,  and  brings  them  into  a  cultivated  state.  But  there  are 
unsubdued  parts  of  our  nature.  And  they  are  to  be  taught  patience, 
meekness,  humility,  disinterestedness,  kindness  and  love.  And  many 
men  that  have  gone  through  great  trials,  wondering  what  God  meant, 
have,  by-and-by,  come  to  a  disclosure  of  the  divine  intention  in  that 
quietness  and  joyfulness  of  spirit  which  is  wrought  out  in  them.  Men 
do  not  at  first  recognize  the  benefit  which  is  being  confeiTcd  upon  them 
by  the  discipline  tp  which  they  are  subjected  in  the  divine  providence. 
God  generally  measures  his  kindness  to  men,  not  by  what  they  want, 
but  by  what  they  need ;  and  therefore  it  is  not  appreciated  by  them. 
If  he  would  give  them  houses,  and  lands,  and  ships,  and  bonds,  and 
stocks,  and  money,  and  other  things  which  they  desii'e,  they  would  say, 
"  Oh !  how  good  God  is !"  If  he  would  feed  their  senses,  they  would 
feel  that  he  was  the  most  worshipful  of  Beings.  But  when  he  feeds 
then*  spu'it,  and  sacrifices  their  senses  thereby,  and  tries  them,  and  disci- 
pHnes  them,  chastening  them  with  stripe  upon  stripe,  taking  away  the 
foundation  on  which  they  stand,  hedging  them  in  on  every  side,  bring- 
ing upon  them  sickness  and  poverty,  casting  them  out,  and  making 
them  exiles  and  strangers,  they  are  apt  to  say,  "  It  was  not  always  so 
with  me  ;  I  have  seen  better  days,"  and  to  mourn  over  then-  hard  lot. 
How  little  do  men  understand  those  things  which  have  been  done  in 
them  and  upon  them  in  the  providence  of  God  to  break  up  the  hard- 
ness of  then-  nature,  and  make  the  soil  of  the  soul  mellow — especially 
where  the  body  is  brought  under  gi-eat  sufiering  and  afiiiction,  that  the 
spii'it  may  have  some  chance  of  life. 

These  and  such  like  examples  are  but  specimens  to  show  that  while 
there  is  a  general  and  gradual  course  of  instruction  and  amelioration,  \% 
is  a  part  of  the  divine  plan,  as  revealed  in  God's  providence,  to  make 
onsets  on  particular  parts  of  men's  nature.  In  view  of  this  disclosure^ 
I  would,  by  way  of  application,  remark,  first,  that  while  men  are  apt  to 
look  upon  their  trials  in  external  relations,  God  is  wont  to  look  upoa 
the  inward  fruit.  We  look  in  one  way,  and  in  the  lower  way  of  our 
senses,  according  to  the  fashion  of  this  world.  God  looks  with  divine 
understanding  from  the  standpoint  of  the  heavenly  land.  God,  who 
knows  the  reality  of  the  internal  and  invisible  ;  God,  who  knows  what 
is  the  value  of  the  soul  itself,  as  separable  from  the  body  and  its  con- 
ditions— he  loves  that  in  man  which  is  best ;  and  for  its  sake  he  chas- 
tises him,  saying, 

"  Whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,  and  scourgeth  every  son  whom 
he  receiveth.  If  ye  endure  chastening,  God  dealeth  with  you  as  with  sons  ; 
for  what  son  is  he  whom  the  father  chasteneth  not  ?" 

It  is  not  cruelty ;  it  is  kindness.     It  is  not  hardness  ;  it  is  mercy. 


262  CONFLICTS  OF  TEE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE, 

I  remark,  secondly,  that  no  man  should  fail,  in  every  fj-oiible  "which 
comes  upon  him,  to  recognize  the  errand  to  which  God  sent  it.  He 
sends  trouble  as  a  messenger  to  some,  saying,  "  Humble  your  pride." 
If  they  will  not  heed  the  message,  he  sends  other  and  worse  troubles. 
If  you  disregard  the  gentler  persuasions  of  God,  you  may  expect  that 
he  will  resort  to  severer  measures  to  secure  submission  on  your  part  to 
his  will.  He  says  to  our  absorbed  and  idolatrous  hearts,  "That  love 
is  too  small  and  too  earthy.  It  has  not  enough  courage  in  it,  nor 
enough  faith  in  it,  nor  enough  breadth  and  comprehension  in  it."  If 
we  will  listen,  we  may  love  on  j  but  if  not,  often,  and  often  and  often 
the  idol  is  taken  away. 

Ah !  how  many  men  have  found  heaven  by  following  their  children 
there !  How  often  it  is  that  a  man,  wi'etchedly  following  after  his 
companion,  has  found  heaven  by  standing  on  the  threshold  of  it  and 
looking  in  upon  the  loved  one  that  he  has  lost !  The  brute  creation 
can  be  toled  and  allm*ed  by  taking  their  young  ones  and  carrying  them 
on  before  them.  And  where  a  heart  loves  idolatrously,  and  is  to  be 
trained  for  heaven,  and  the  object  loved  is  taken  to  heaven,  how  often 
does  it  follow,  crying  as  it  goes,  as  a  bii'd  cries  out  while  it  folloAvs  the 
boy  that  has  the  nest  in  his  hand !  How  often  have  men  learned  at  the 
cradle,  what  they  would  not  learn  at  the  altar ;  and  at  the  grave,  what 
they  would  not  in  the  sanctuary.  Take  care,  when  God  sends  trouble 
upon  you,  that  you  instantly  say  to  yourself,  "  What  means  it  ?  What 
does  God  seek  to  accomplish  by  it  ?  How  shall  I  fall  in  with  this 
message  of  my  Lord,  and  become  a  better  man,  in  consequence  of  this 
trouble?" 

I  remark  again,  that  no  man  ought  to  be  discouraged  because  he 

is  in  trouble.     No  man  ought  to  be  depressed  at  the  dealing  of  God 

with  him.     In  the  fourth  chapter  of  the  first  Epistle  of  Peter,  and  the 

twelfth  verse,  it  is  said, 

"  Beloved,  think  it  not  strange  concerning  the  fiery  trial  which  is  to  try 
you,  as  though  some  strange  thing  happened  unto  you;  but  rejoice,  inas- 
much as  ye  are  partakers  of  Christ's  sufierings  ;  that,  when  his  glory  shall 
be  revealed,  ye  may  be  glad  also  with  exceeding  joy." 

There  are  a  great  many  who  are  discouraged  when  they  begin  a 
Christian  life,  because  they  find  so  much  that  is  bad  in  them ;  so  much 
of  retrospect;  so  many  times  when  they  seem  to  be  backsliding;  so 
many  times  when  a  spu-itual  coldness  overshadows  them ;  so  many 
times  when  their  religious  sensibility  declines,  and  when  they  are 
brought  into  states  of  darkness  and  of  trouble.  They  feel  that  they 
have  been  deceived,  that  they  have  mistaken  then*  own  evidences, 
and  that  they  supposed  themselves  to  be  Chiistians  when  they 
were  not.     My  deai-ly  beloved  brethren,  whom  the  Lord  loves  he 


CONFLICTS  OF  THE  CnniSTIAN  LIFE.  263 

chastens.  If  you  are  brought  into  trouble  and  grief,  and  there  is  a 
humbling  of  your  pride  and  vanity,  and  a  circumscription  of  your  nat- 
ural appetites  ;  if  you  find  that  the  world  is  not  so  bright  to  you  as  it 
M'as  before,  it  is  God's  invitation  to  you  to  take  the  higher  life.  God 
is  dealing  with  you,  not  in  punishment,  but  in  gi-eat  mercy.  Beware 
of  suffering  that  does  not  bring  forth  "  the  peaceable  fi-uit  of  righteous- 
ness." Do  not  say,  "  How  long  shall  I  suffer?"  That  is  not  the  ques- 
tion. Do  not  say,  "How  much  ought  I  to  suffer?"  That  is  nothing 
to  you.  All  that  concerns  you,  is,  that  suffering  shall  bring  forth  the 
appropnate  fruit  of  spiritual  purity,  and  so  of  spiritual  peace. 

When  birds  are  flying  over,  and  the  fowler  lies  in  wait  for  them,  if 
they  fly  low,  at  every  discharge  of  the  fowler's  gun,  some  fall,  some 
are  wounded,  and  some,  swerving  sideways,  plunge  into  the  thicket 
and  hide  themselves.  But  you  will  find  that  immediately  after  the  first 
discharge  of  the  gun,  the  flock  rise  and  fly  higher ;  and  at  the  next 
discharge  they  rise  again,  and  fly  still  higher.  And  not  many  times  has 
the  plunging  shot  thinned  their  number,  before  they  take  so  high  a 
level  that  it  is  in  vain  that  the  fowler  aims  at  them,  because  they  are 
above  the  reach  of  his  shot. 

When  troubles  come  upon  you,  fly  higher.  And  if  they  still  strike 
you,  fly  still  higher.  And  by  and-by-you  will  rise  so  high  in  the  spir- 
itual life,  and  your  affections  will  be  set  on  things  so  entirely  above, 
that  these  troubles  shall  not  be  able  to  touch  you.  So  long  as  the  shot 
strike  you,  so  long  hear  the  word  of  God  saying  to  you,  "Rise 
higher." 

No  man  can  determine  for  himself  either  what  afflictions  he  needs, 
or  what  degi-ees  of  affliction  are  best  for  him.  Leave  that  to  the  hand 
of  the  Lord.  Say  to  him,  "Thy  will  be  done — not  mine,  but  thine." 
Say  to  the  Lord,  "  May  the  trial  of  my  faith  be  to  me,  as  it  is  to  thee, 
more  precious  than  gold."  Lay  your  heart  open,  and  say  with  the 
Psalmist  of  old,  "  Search  me,  try  me,  and  see  if  there  be  any  wicked 
way  in  me." 

This  is  the  life  for  that  Avork.  Not  that  we  are  to  walk  in  dark- 
ness ;  not  that  we  are  to  be  overburdened  here ;  not  that  there  is 
in  this  world  only  gloom  and  discouiagement.  There  is  nuich  for 
enjoyment,  much  for  courage,  much  for  instruction ;  but  there  are 
also  the  appropriate  influences  by  which  the  rebellious  parts  of  our 
nature  are  subdued ;  by  which  the  things  that  are  unfruitful  are 
made  to  bear  fruit.  God  deals  with  us  as  with  children,  when  he  chas- 
tises as  much  as  when  he  caresses.  The  hand  that  bears  the  rod,  and 
inflicts  wounds  upon  us,  and  causes  us  suffering,  is  the  hand  that  also 
cares  for  us  and  blesses  xis.  If  we  are  to  be  })aitakers  of  the  divine 
inheritance,  we  must  come  to  it  by  the  way  of  the  Saviour ;  by  the 


264  CONFLICTS  OF  TEE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 

way  of  the  cross  ;  by  dying  in  the  natural  man,  that  we  may  live  in 
the  spiritual  man. 

Who,  then,  among  us,  desire  to  be  saved  ?  Who,  that  hear  me,  have 
been  to  Christ,  saying,,  "  Lord,  grant  that  we  may  sit  on  thy  right 
hand  and  on  thy  left  hand  ?"  Who  of  you  have  been  aspiring  and 
longing  that  God  would  clothe  you  royally  with  Christian  experiences? 
If  when  you  prayed  that  God  would  do  such  and  such  things  for  you, 
you  meant  that  some  royal  sermon  should  open  some  royal  vision,  and 
that  then  you  might,  in  the  effulgence  of  joy,  rise  up  and  pluck  down 
all  the  stars  of  life,  how  sadly  will  you  be  disappointed !  Christ  asks 
every  one  who  desires  eminence  in  the  Christian  life,  "  Can  ye  di-ink 
of  the  cup  that  I  di'ink  of,  and  be  baptized  with  the  baptism  that  I  am 
baptized  withal  f 

Are  you  so  alive  to  immortality  and  glory,  are  you  so  in  earnest  for 
the  salvation  of  your  better  self,  that  you  can  say  to  the  Lord,  know- 
ing that  he  punishes  and  that  he  afflicts,  *'  Smite.  Thy  will  be  done. 
Let  me  lose,  let  me  suffer,  and  let  thy  burden  come  never  so  heavily 
■upon  me  ;  only  let  these  afflictions  be  for  my  purification,  setting  free 
all  my  hidden  life,  that  I  may  be  a  man  in  Christ  Jesus  ?" 

Blessed  are  they  who  know  how  to  take  pains  and  burdens  and 
crosses,  and  who  see  in  every  single  event  of  life  the  overruling  hand 
of  a  Father,  and  who,  in  the  midst  of  innumerable  afflictions  can  still 
look  up  and  say,  "  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  him." 


CONFLICTS  OF  THE  CmtlSTIAN  LIFE.  265 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

Thou  eternal  God !  we  desire  to  draw  near  to  thee  this  moming,  and 
ask  thy  help,  that  by  thy  Spirit  our  understandings  may  be  cleansed,  and 
our  imaginations  inspired  ;  that  we  may  be  lifted  up  above  the  passions  of 
men  ;  and  that  we  may  not  liken  thee  unto  ourselves  ;  but  that  we  may  find 
tiiee  in  thy  purity,  iuthy  truth,  in  thy  justice,  ana  in  thy  holiness;  and  that 
we  may  come  into  thy  very  temple.  Though  we  cannot  see  thee  as  thou  art, 
thou  canst  show  us  somewhat  of  thy  glory,  and  manifest  thyself  to  us  as  thou 
dost  not  unto  the  world.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  have  compassion,  this  morn- 
ing, upon  our  weakness  and  ignorance,  and  that  thou  wilt  lift  us  graciously 
up  into  thy  presence.  As  we  take  our  little  children,  and  hold  them  in  our 
arms,  so  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  do  unto  our  souls  this  morning, 
that  we  may  come  home  and  find  that  God  is  our  Father  who  art  in  heaven. 
Far  above  earthly  dreams,  purer,  more  noble,  more  full  of  power  and  help- 
fulness therein,  more  glorious,  may  we  rejoice  that  the  God  of  all  the  spheres 
and  all  ages  is  our  God  and  our  Father. 

We  bless  thee  for  the  revelation  of  thyself,  through  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord.  We  bless  thee  for  that  Spirit  which  was  promised,  and  which  has 
been  sent  to  thy  people  to  enlighten  them ;  and  we  pray  that  all  the  offices 
of  God  toward  us  in  mercy  and  instruction  may  be  fulfilled  this  day.  Grant 
us  a  saving  sense  of  thy  presence,  and  the  joy  of  thy  salvation ;  and  may 
everything  that  is  in  us  rise  up  to  acclaim  thee  our  God.  We  confess  our 
unworthiness.  We  confess  our  manifold  sins,  continued  through  every  year 
of  our  lives.  We  confess  our  proneness  thereto.  And  we  pray  not  only  that 
we  may  have  forgiveness  of  sins  that  are  past,  but  that  we  may  be  cleansed 
Bo  that  in  time  to  come  we  may  sin  no  more.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou 
wilt  help  us  to  watch  against  temptation  ;  and  may  we  in  the  hour  of  as- 
sault be  strong,  that  we  may  overcome  it.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  deliver 
every  one  of  us  from  doubt,  from  fear,  and  from  uncertainty  of  mind.  Draw 
near,  this  morning,  to  confirm  their  hope  who  trust  in  thee.  Inspire  those 
with  confidence  who  are  discouraged,  and  are  looking  back.  We  pray  that 
thou  wilt  strengthen  all  who  are  feeble.  Comfort  all  who  are  sorrowful. 
Enlighten  all  who  are  dim-eyed.  Grant  that  there  may  be  an  abundance  of 
thy  spirit  given  to  every  needy  soul  this  morning.  Thou  knowest  the 
troubles  and  trials  of  each  one,  and  thou  hast  succor  for  each  one.  And  we 
pray  that  each  one  may  seek  for  salvation,  and  learn  the  way  of  salvation. 
Even  in  the  hour  of  darkness  may  every  one  know  the  way,  and  find  victory 
in  thee. 

We  pray,  O  Lord,  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  those 
that  are  prospered,  and  that  come  hither  this  morning  with  the  memory  of 
thy  goodness  to  them.  And  may  their  gratitude  ascend  as  incense.  And 
wilt  thou  accept  the  offerings  which  they  make. 

Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  all  those  who  have  trouble  in  their  households 
may  be  remembered  to-day.     May  the  God  of  all  grace  comfort  them. 

We  pray  for  those  who  are  in  trials  and  troubles  ia  the  midst  of  their 
affairs,  that  they  may  so  carry  themselves  that  their  tribulations  siiall  work 
patience,  not  only,  but  virtue  and  likeness  to  Christ.  We  pray  for  all  who 
are  in  bereavement ;  and  for  all  who  walk  among  the  sick ;  and  for  all  who 
are  themselves  sick ;  and  for  all  who  are  burdened  with  any  manner  of 
trouble. 

Thou,  O  God !  art  the  Saviour.  Redeem  every  one  of  thy  people  out  of 
all  afflictions.  And  we  pray  that  we  may  learn  the  sacred  lesson  by  which 
sorrow  shall  change  to  joy,  and  by  which  loss  shall  become  gain,  and  by 
which  weakness  shall  wax  strong  and  be  victorious.  And  out  of  thy  provi- 
dence minister  to  our  spiritual  good,  so  that  we  may  be  equipped  and  pro- 
pared  for  that  life  which  waits  for  us  just  beyond.     Grant  that  we  may  not 


266  CONFLICTS  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE. 

put  too  high  an  estimate  upon  earthly  things;  that  we  may  not  overvalue 
them.  Itlay  we  use  the  world  as  not  abusing  it.  Strangers  and  pilgrims 
we  are.  We  are  as  they  who  stop  to  take  flowers  and  fruits  by  the  wayside, 
anf'  then  rise  speedily  to  travel  on  their  appointed  journey.  And  grant  that 
at  last  we  may  have  an  exceeding  abundant  entrance  ministered  to  us,  when 
all  thy  work  shall  have  been  fulfilled,  into  the  kingdom  of  thy  glory. 

Look  with  great  compassion,  this  morning,  upon  thy  servants  of  every 
name  who  worship  thee.  Grant  prosperity  to  all  thy  Churches.  May  all 
thy  ministering  servants  know  how  to  divide  the  word  rightly.  May  they 
see  their  work  prospering  in  the  Lord. 

We  thank  thee  for  all  those  signs  of  unity  and  sympathy  among  the  peo- 
ple which  foretoken  the  latter  day  glory.  We  pray  that  thy  people  may  be 
guarded  as  a  flock,  and  that  more  and  more  their  hearts  may  find  each  other, 
and  that  thy  servants  of  every  name  may  work  together  for  the  suppression 
of  evil,  and  for  the  advancement  of  the  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ, 

Pity,  we  beseech  of  thee,  the  nations  of  the  earth.  See  how  many  of 
them  are  despoiled.  Behold  the  darkness  that  rests  as  night  upon  so  many. 
And  take  sides  for  those  that  struggle  for  manhood  and  liberty,  and  for 
those  that  are  seeking  to  dispel  their  superstition,  and  to  throw  off"  their 
ignorance.  May  a  great  light  arise  upon  them.  And  wilt  thou  fulfill  thy 
promises  that  respect  this  world.  Overturn  and  overturn,  till  He  whose 
right  it  is  shall  come  and  reign. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son  and  Spirit,  eyennore. 
Amen. 


PRAYER   AFTER  THE   SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  pray  that  you  wilt  teach  us,  nnd  lead  us  according  to 
thy  love  and  thy  wisdom.  And  as  we  overrule  the  desires  of  our  children 
for  their  good ;  as  we  circumscribe  their  freedom ;  as  we  teach  them  by  re- 
fusing them  what  they  ought  not  to  want,  as  well  as  by  gratifying  them  in 
the  things  which  it  is  proper  for  them  to  want,  so  do  thou  with  us ;  and 
teach  us,  in  all  the  manifold  experiences  of  life,  from  day  to  day,  to  see  the 
mystery  of  that  which  thou  art  doing.  Grant  that  we  may  have  intimations 
of  the  spirit-life  and  the  spirit-land.  May  there  be  wafted  to  us  something 
of  the  heavenly  estate,  so  that  we  may  see  whereunto  we  are  tending ;  that 
we  may  feel  the  growth  in  us  of  that  which  belongs  to  the  other  world ; 
that  our  life  may  be  hid  with  Christ  in  God ;  that  when  He  who  is  our 
Xiife  shall  appear,  we  also  may  appear  with  him  in  glory. 

Sanctify  to  thy  servants  all  thy  dealings  with  them.  Draw  near  to  those 
who  have  secret  afliiction  which  they  can  speak  to  none.  May  they  speak  it 
in  thine  heart.  Wilt  thou  grant  that  their  trials  may  result  in  a  purifica- 
tion of  their  faith.  Draw  near  to  all  who  have  household  afliictions.  Be  a 
Counselor  and  Guide  to  them  in  their  great  trouble.  Be  near  to  tliose  who 
are  pressed  hard  by  outward  troul^les.  May  they  not  be  unwilling  to  submit 
themselves  to  the  hand  of  the  Lord.  My  they  neither  lose  courage,  nor 
faith,  nor  enterprise.  May  they  still  persevere  in  things  that  are  right.  May 
they  understand  why  it  is  that  thou  hast  hedged  them  up  to  better  man- 
hood. And  if  they  are  tempted  to  sin  by  sacrificing  that  which  is  right,  by 
yielding  up  their  consciences,  and  by  going  in  the  way  of  the  wicked,  may 


CONFLICTS  OF  TEE  CEBISTIAN  LIFE.  267 

they  see  their  danger  obviously  before  them,  and  flee  for  succor  to  thy  higher 
■wisdom  and  thy  higher  power. 

Deliver  all  those  who  stand  in  youth  and  in  the  midst  of  life  and  strength, 
and  all  who  are  in  old  age,  according  to  their  several  circumstances.  As  thou 
art  dealing  with  them,  so  interpret  thy  providence  and  grace  unto  them,  that 
they  may  find  in  thee  their  life,  their  joy  and  their  strength ;  and  that  liv- 
ing or  dying,  they  may  be  the  Lord's. 

And  when  we  shall  have  passed  through  this  scene  of  trouble,  and  shall 
have  shed  all  the  tears  which  have  been  appointed  for  us,  and  shall  have 
washed  our  raiment  white  in  blood,  then  may  we  appear  with  thy  sons, 
clothed  in  white;  then  may  every  tear,  wiped  from  our  eyes  and  left  behind, 
be  forgotten ;  and  then  may  joys  innocuous  spring  up,  forever  blooming,  and 
forever  in  fruit.  And  then,  in  the  land  of  the  redeemed,  with  all  our  ran- 
somed power,  we  will  give  the  praise  of  our  salvation  to  the  Father,  the  Son 
and  the  Spirit,  evermore.    ATnen. 


XV. 

Earthly  Immortality. 


INVOCATON. 


June  19, 1870. 

WE  draw  near  to  thee  Tvitli  gladness,  this  morning,  sure  of  a  welcome^ 
O  our  Father!  whose  lips  have  uever  spoken  aught  but  peace  to  us, 
and  whose  hauds  have  never  been  unladen  of  blessings.  Forever  giving, 
they  are  forever  full.  And  we  are  recipients  of  mercies  more  than  we  can 
remember.  We  dwell  in  the  stream  of  thy  continued  thoughts  of  mercy 
and  of  kindness,  and  in  overmeasure  are  we  blessed  of  thee.  We  thank  thee, 
and  rejoice  in  th.;*;,  and  praise  thee.  And  now,  dwelling  apart  from  life  a 
little  time,  in  this  thine  house,  we  desire  that  help  by  which  we  shall  rise  to 
the  full  communion,  and  to  the  understanding  of  faith,  and  to  the  rejoicing 
of  the  fellowship  of  love  with  one  another  and  with  thee.  Help  us  to  sing 
thy  praises.  Help  us  to  commune  by  prayer,  with  thee.  Bless  our  offices  of 
instruction  and  meditation.  Bless  the  duties  of  the  day,  and  its  enjoyments, 
and  its  rest.  And  may  this  Sabbath  be  a  delight,  honorable  unto  God,  and 
before  men.    We  Jisk  it  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 

15. 


EARTHLY  IMMOETALITY. 


"  And  by  it,  he  being  dead,  yet  speaketh." — Heb.  XI.  4. 


Very  little  is  known  of  Abel,  of  whom  this  is  spoken,  except  that  he 
represented  before  God  the  spiritual  element,  while  his  brother  repre- 
sented the  carnal  and  the  secular.  He  must  have  been  a  man  whose 
moral  nature  was  impressive,  mild,  gentle.  Yet  he  produced  an  effect, 
not  only  upon  his  own  time,  but  upon  after  times.  Being  dead,  he 
continued  to  live  and  speak  as  though  he  were  present. 

This  living  after  a  man  is  gone,  may  almost  be  said  to  be  a  univer- 
sal aspiration.  Almost  all  men,  when  they  rise  out  of  the  savage  state, 
begin  to  come  under  the  influence  of  this  ambition. 

We  are  not  content,  either,  with  our  individual  sphere.  We  desii'e 
to  be  known  and  felt  outside  of  ourselves,  outside  of  our  household, 
outside  of  our  neighborhood.  And  our  satisfiiction  grows  if  we  find 
that  our  life  affects  the  life  of  larger  communities,  and  goes  out  through 
the  nation  and  through  the  world.  And  it  is  but  an  extension  of  the 
game  feeling  that  leads  men  to  rejoice  in  the  prospect  of  their  being 
felt,  known,  spoken  of,  in  after  times,  and  of  theu*  influence  being  ex- 
perienced even  as  in  their  own  day. 

To  a  highly  poetic  nature,  it  seems  as  though  it  were  a  kind  of 
earthly  immortality.  One  looks  forward  to  it  as  if  he  already  realized 
that  he  should  still  be  alive,  and  enjoy  all  that  should  take  place 
through  him,  after  him,  if  it  might  be  that  he  when  dead  should  yet 
speak.     And  there  are  aspects  in  which  this  is  honorable. 

As  you  go  toward  animal  life,  you  come  to  a  narrower  and  naiTower 
sphere,  and  to  an  unconsciousness,  and  to  a  want  of  aspiration.  The 
ox,  for  instance,  never  seems  to  desire  to  be  more  than  an  ox.  And 
as  you  go  down,  insect  life  has  that  kind  of  base  content.  It  wants  to 
be  nothing  better  and  nothing  more.  But  as  you  rise  even  among 
the  higher  forms  of  animals,  you  begin  to  see  the  rudiments,  as  in  the 
dog  and  in  the  horse,  of  a  kind  of  feeling  which  afterwards,  in  a  man, 
becomes  aspiration.  Though  we  can  scarcely  say  that  it  is  in  the 
brute,  yet  the  sense  of  ambition,  the  sense  of  praise,  we  seem  to 

Sunday  Mornino,  Juno  19, 1870.    Lesson:  Hxb.  XL  1-27.  Htmns  (Plymoutb  Colleotloii)i 

N08.  40,  ia27,  1257. 


270  EARTHLY  IMMORTALITY. 

discern  in  higher  kinds  of  animals.  And  in  men  this  element  begins 
where  it  leaves  off  in  the  highest  part  of  the  animal  kingdom.  Then  it 
goes  on  and  pmifies  itself  from  lower  forms  of  development,  and  takes 
on  higher  elements,  and  becomes,  finally,  one  of  the  noblest  inspirations 
and  sentiments  of  human  life.  A  man  who  is  content  to  live  simply  in 
himself,  and  for  himself,  and  just  through  his  allotted  years,  must  be 
considered  to  be  as  vulgar  as  the  clod  which  he  treads  upon. 

The  revelation  of  a  future  and  a  more  glorious  life  meets  one  part 
of  this  desu'e  which  we  have  for  the  extension  of  our  being.  We  are 
to  live  afterwards.  Over  the  bright  bridge  of  Christ's  words  we  walk, 
now  sm-e  that  we  shall  not  plunge  into  a  gulf  of  darkness  and  forget- 
fulness  at  death,  but  that  we  shall  live  again,  and  live  forever. 

One  naturally  clings  to  the  places,  the  objects,  the  persons  or  the 
race  among  which  he  has  expended  himself  It  is  not  an  unnatural 
thing,  nor  a  thing  to  be  despised,  when  one  lingers  where  his  life  has 
been  developed  upon  earth,  with  fond  longings,  and  that  he  distinctly 
experiences  a  wish  to  be  felt  and  known  there  long  after  his  natural  life 
has  ceased.  One  cannot  well  bear  to  think  that  among  his  companions, 
as  soon  as  the  services  at  his  funeral  are  done,  he  shall  be  done,  and 
that  his  name  shall  not  be  mentioned  again  by  them.  The  father  and 
the  mother  could  not  well  bear  to  think  of  dying  from  the  midst  of  their 
childi-en,  and  have  those  children  think  nothing  of  them  and  care  noth- 
ing for  them.  One  wants  to  be  felt  after  he  is  gone  who  has  been  felt 
during  his  life. 

There  is,  however,  a  great  difference  in  men's  ambitions  for  such 
prolonged  life.  There  is  a  great  difference  in  the  moral  values  of  this 
longing  for  extended  being  and  influence.  If  it  be  the  ambition  of 
vanity ;  if  men  desne,  while  alive,  to  be  felt,  in  order  that  they  may  be 
praised ;  if  their  thought  of  other  persons  is  simply  how  to  di-aw  from 
them  revenue  for  themselves,  or  how  they  can  make  themselves  idols, 
and  make  men  believe  that  they  are  gods — if  it  be  this,  then  it  is  a 
base  and  perverted  form  of  that  which  is  a  very  good  thing  in  its  no- 
bler and  higher  form.  And  such  men  are  very  poor  indeed,  and  con- 
temptible, after  death.  It  is  as  much  as  men  can  do  to  flatter  those 
who  make  it  their  interest  to  flatter  them,  while  they  are  alive.  After 
they  are  gone,  men  kick  over  then-  idols.  The  world  has  too  much  to 
do  to  think  about  fools ;  and  therefore  men  who  spend  their  lives  in 
imposing  themselves  on  their  fellow  men,  without  any  real  worth,  in 
flattering  shams ;  who  live  so  as  to  augment  themselves  by  constantly 
appealing  to  the  self-interests  of  their  fellows — such  men,  when  they 
die,  die  thoroughly,  die  all  through,  and  are  forgotten.  The  world  has 
enough  to  do  to  carry  on  its  business,  and  it  cannot  carry  old  rubbish 
along  with  it. 


•  EARTULY  IMMORTALITY.  271 

This  desire  to  be  remembered  and  loved  and  felt,  is  the  natural  in- 
flection of  domestic  feeling ;  and  in  this  sphere  it  is  worthy  of  more 
consideration.  One  may  fitly  desire  to  be  remembered  by  those  who 
love  him,  and  whose  life  has  cheered  his  life.  One  may  very  propcily 
desire  to  be  felt  long  after  he  is  gone,  among  those  to  whom  he  has  given 
his  thought,  and  his  experience,  and  his  time,  and  his  property,  to  make 
them  wiser  and  better.  Love  acts  at  short  distances.  It  is  the  strong- 
est but  the  shortest  of  all  levers.  Benevolence,  though  it  acts  more 
feebly  at  near  approaches,  acts  longest.  And  though  the  love  which 
we  have  to  our  families  and  to  our  intimate  personal  friends  is  more 
intense  than  our  general  benevolent  desire  to  serve  them  after  they  are 
gone,  it  is  that  which  we  have  done  for  their  good — that  is,  it  is  our 
benevolent  work  and  manifestation  for  them — that  will  continue  to 
make  us  precious  to  them  in  their  memory.  "We  do  not  so  much  re- 
member the  caress  as  we  do  the  benefit.  We  do  not  so  much  remem- 
ber the  authority,  or  the  power,  or  the  intensity,  as  we  do  that  trans- 
forming influence  which  has  made  us  better  as  well  as  happier. 

The  desire  to  be  felt  as  an  influence  is  the  only  true  and  noble 
ambition  for  this  world.  It  is  the  desire  of  genius  and  enterprise,  and 
it  may  develop  itself  in  every  phase  of  life — in  things  physical,  social, 
intellectual,  and  moral.     And  its  worth  is  in  that  order. 

Dismissing,  then,  the  vain  ambition  of  distinction,  let  us  consider 
the  power  which  a  man  has  of  prolonging  his  good  influence,  and  the 
various  channels  through  which  he  can  do  it. 

Selfishness,  by  its  own  law,  not  only  moves  in  simple  circles,  but  ia 
shoil-lived.  What  men  do  for  themselves  is  soon  expended,  and  is 
soon  forgotten.  Even  the  monuments  which  men  ostentatiously  build 
for  themselves,  refuse  long  to  cany  their  names,  and  often  subject 
them  to  contempt,  rather  than  to  praise  or  to  memory.  Only  that  part 
of  a  man's  life  which  includes  other  men's  good,  and  especially  the 
public  good,  is  likely  to  be  felt  long  after  he  himself  is  dead. 

The  physical  industries  of  this  world  have  two  relations  in  them — 
one  to  the  actor  and  one  to  the  public.  Honest  business  is  more  really 
a  contribution  to  the  public  than  it  is  to  the  manager  of  the  business 
himself  Although  it  seems  to  the  man,  and  generally  to  the  conmiu- 
nity,  that  the  active  business  man  is  a  self-seeker,  and  although  his 
motive  may  be  self  aggrandizement,  yet,  in  point  of  fact,  no  man  ever 
manages  a  legitimate  business  in  this  life,  that  he  is  not  doing  a  thousand 
fold  more  fur  other  men  than  he  is  trying  to  do  even  for  himself  For, 
in  the  economy  of  God's  providence,  eveiy  right  and  well-organized 
business  is  a  beneficence  and  not  a  selfishness.  And  not  less  is  it  so 
because  the  merchant,  the  mechanic,  the  publisher,  the  artist,  think 
merely  of  their  own  profit.  They  are  in  fact  working  more  for  others 
than  they  are  for  themselves. 


272  EARTULT  IMMORTALITY: 

When  one  so  far  recognizes  this  as  to  walk  in  a  large  and  generous 
spirit  in  the  administration  of  his  thousand  industries,  he  in  fact  is  organ- 
izing economies  which  are  to  go  on  working  long  after  he  has  died.  That 
which  his  business  accomplishes,  that  which  his  energy  has  set  on  foot, 
will  goon  working.  And  the  thought — that  is,  the  brain-power — which 
he  has  put  into  his  business,  does  not  die  when  the  brain  that  originated 
that  thought  dies.  It  incarnates  itself  in  the  affiiu'S  of  human  life ;  and 
the  man  sends  down  much  of  his  personality,  shrewdness,  frugality, 
economy,  wisdom  of  combination,  and  fruitfulness  of  result,  in  the 
business  which  he  has  established  and  organized  and  carried  wisely  for- 
ward. 

Who  built  that  mill  which  clatters  night  and  day  under  the  willows 
in  the  valley-road  just  outside  of  the  village,  where  on  moonlight  nights 
the  maid  and  the  youth  whisper,  and  where  through  the  Saturday 
afternoons  the  children  frolic  and  play,  and  where  artists  go  to  sketch 
the  scene  ?  Who  built  that  old  mill  which  has  ground  the  bread  of 
two  generations  ?  Men  do  not  know.  His  name  may  be  on  some 
mouldering  stone  in  the  graveyard.  But  it  is  the  man  who  built  it  that 
is  working  in  it  still.  It  was  his  skill  and  engineering  industry  that 
put  it  up.  And  though  the  hands  that  made  it  shall  make  nothing 
more,  since  they  have  mouldered  in  the  dust,  yet  the  mill  which  they 
built  has  been  working  for  the  men  of  that  village  ever  since  its  erec- 
tion. 

You  may  say  that  building  it  was  a  job.  Yes,  it  was  a  job. 
You  may  say  that  the  man  who  built  it  got  his  pay.  Yes,  he  got  hia 
pay.  You  may  say  that  he  has  had  a  quid  pro  quo,  and  has  nothing 
more  to  do  with  it.  I  beg  your  pardon ;  no  man  sets  on  foot  anything 
that  goes  on  perpetually  working  for  the  welfare  of  the  community, 
that  he  has  not  a  right  in  his  generous  nature  to  feel  that  he  is  identi- 
fied with  them  as  long  as  he  lives.  And  whoever  builds  a  good  fac- 
tory or  a  good  shop,  whoever  puts  in  motion  a  clattering  town-mill  in 
the  midst  of  a  community,  is  not  done  with  it  when  he  leaves  it  to 
do  his  work.  Although  he  is  not  an  intellectual  laborer,  although  his 
is  not  by  any  means  the  highest  range  of  activity,  although  he  is  a 
worker  in  the  humbler  ranks  of  life,  yet  he  is  working  after  he  is 
dead  in  the  things  in  which  he  has  helped  society.  For  although  he 
helped  himself  a  little,  he  helped  society  ten  thousand  times  more.  And 
"I  pity  business  men  who  do  not  recognize  the  fact  that  the  largest  side 
of  their  secular  business  is  benevolence.  I  marvel  that  men  do  not 
sympathize  with  that  side  more  than  they  do. 

The  builders  of  stores,  and  warehouses,  and  shops,  and  dwellings, 
ai'e  not  building  them  for  wages  merely.  They  build  them  upon  con- 
tract, to  be  sure ;  but  their  interest  in  them  does  not  expire  with  the 


EARTHLT  IMMORTALITY.  273 

fulfillment  of  that  contract.  It  iy  not  how  much  these  things  have 
done  for  them  that  limits  their  interest  in  them,  but  ho^v  much  they 
were  able,  through  these  things,  to  make  the  brain  work  in  the  future, 
and  so  to  incorporate  their  usefulness  into  the  lower  ranges  and  econo- 
mies of  human  life. 

Ah  !  how  wisely  might  men  walk  through  the  streets,  and  say,  "  I 
have  no  eloquence  and  no  poetry ;  I  have  been  obliged  to  be  a  humble 
worker ;  I  am  becoming  old ;  these  hands  refuse  the  plane  and  the 
saw,  and  this  head  the  planning  and  the  architectural  supervision  ;  but 
I  have  not  lived  in  vain.  There  are  in  this  town  five  hundred  houses 
where  scores  and  scores  of  virtuous  and  happy  families  dwell ;  and  it 
was  my  faithfulness  that  threw  those  roofs  over  then-  heads,  and  built 
those  walls,  and  stored  those  houses  with  conveniences.  I  am  not  known  ; 
my  name  is  not  whispered  ;  the  owners  thank  nobody  but  themselves ; 
yet  I  know  that  I  built  those  houses,  and  I  know  that  they  will  rear 
virtuous  families.  I  know  that  as  my  work  has  begun,  so  it  will  go  on, 
in  the  blessed  service  of  fostering  the  institution  of  the  household  do^vn 
through  many  generations." 

And  those  men  who  put  on  shameful  roofs,  and  built  tumble-down 
walls,  and  covered  up  bad  work  with  putty  and  paint,  ought  to  follow 
these  faithful  workers,  and  say,  "  I  have  been  a  tormenter  of  life  ;  I 
have  cheated  all  the  way  through ;  I  have  built  houses  that  will  go  on 
from  generation  to  generation  vexing  and  harrassing  those  who  occupy 
them." 

And  then  the  contractor  ought  to  condemn  himself,  who,  from  ex- 
travagance, or  for  the  sake  of  making  a  little  profit,  crowded  these 
builders  of  poor  houses  into  such  a  corner  that  they  had  to  be  dishonest 
and  cheat. 

But  any  man  who  has  helped  to  beautify  the  city ;  any  man  who 
has  helped  to  make  the  warehouses  noble,  the  wharves  and  piers  ser- 
viceable, and  the  dwellings  enduring  and  comfortable,  has  reason  to 
look  back  with  satisfaction  on  what  he  has  done.  He  has  not  written 
a  book  ;  his  usefulness  is  of  a  lower  form  :  but  it  is  a  form  in  which 
he  may  well  take  pleasure.  Any  man  who  has  spent  an  honest  life  in 
rearing  up  the  physical  economy  of  society,  by  which  he  is  to  promote 
the  happiness  of  households,  and  the  industries  and  frugalities,  and  so 
the  welfare,  of  his  fellow  men,  has  lived  to  a  good  purjiose.  For  the 
man  who  is  a  carpenter,  or  builder,  or  architect,  or  engineer,  does  not 
work  merely  for  present  remuneration.  He  puts  that  in  his  work 
which  will  remunerate  him.  And  I  think  many  a  man  has  looked 
back  from  heaven  and  thanked  God  that  he  had  a  chance  to  bless  man- 
kind by  building  good  houses.  And  some  men  have,  perhaps,  looked 
back,  not  from  heaven,  with  remorse,  that  they  built  houses  that  were 
a  curse  to  mankind. 


^74  EARTHLY  IMMORTALITY. 

He  whose  enterprise  develops  new  sources  of  wealth  in  the  com- 
munity ;  he  who  gives  to  the  community  mines  or  manufacturing 
products ;  he  who  starts  occupations  for  supplying  men's  necessities 
not  before  known,  becomes  a  lasting  benefactor ;  and  he  has  a  right  in 
his  own  spirit  to  thank  God  for  permitting  him  to  be  a  benefactor 
through  these  material  instruments. 

So,  not  alone  are  those  men  benefactors  who  are  warriors,  and 
statesmen,  and  scholars,  and  poets.  These  other  men,  too,  in  a  hum- 
bler way,  but  really,  ought  to  have  a  share  of  our  thought  and  credit. 
They  who  promote  industry,  and  make  it  more  prolific  of  profit,  are 
benefactors. 

So  inventors,  preeminently,  are  benefactors,  if  they  but  knew  it, 
and  would  take  a  benevolent  view  of  their  occupations.  They  are 
benefactors  who  by  machinery  abbreviate  labor,  and  bring  years  into 
days,  making  hours  do  what  months  were  required  to  do,  and  who  not 
only  augment  the  comfort  of  men,  rendering  cheap  goods  accessible 
to  the  poor  and  needy,  but  who  add  to  men's  power.  A  tool  is  but 
the  extension  of  a  man's  hand  ;  and  a  machine  is  but  a  complex  tool. 
And  he  that  invents  a  machine  augments  the  power  of  a  man.  And 
men  are  as  much  mightier  to-day  than  they  were  five  hundred  years 
ago,  as  all  the  machines  of  the  world  make  them  to  be.  For  the  ma- 
chinery of  the  globe,  after  all,  is  but  the  manhood  of  the  globe,  and 
represents  human  power  as  it  has  been  organized.  And  he  who 
increases  this  power  by  inventing  a  machine  or  tool,  although  he  walks 
frequently  unrecognized  except  as  a  mere  commercialist,  although  he 
is  called  a  mechanic,  yet,  if  he  be  wise,  he  is  a  benefactor,  and  has  a 
right  to  think  so. 

Take  the  sewing-machine.  There  is  many  and  many  a  man  who 
has  died  leaving  millions  and  millions  of  money,  but  who  has  not  con- 
feiTcd  upon  society  one  tithe  of  the  blessing  which  has  been  confeiTed 
upon  it  by  Howe.  And  there  will  come  a  day  when  such  men  as  Watt, 
and  Fulton,  and  Jacquard,  and  Stephenson  and  Ericsson  (not  born 
among  us,  but  gladly  ours)  will  be  regarded  as  benefactors.  These 
men  will  have  around  about  theu-  names  more  gloiy  than  that  which 
mere  money  could  purchase.  They  will  be  recognized  as  having 
wrought  for  society ;  as  having  used  their  inventive  genius  so  as  to 
make  men  stronger,  and  society  more  capable,  and  the  ages  fuller  of 
profit.  These  men  extended  themselves ;  and  being  dead,  they  live. 
Fulton  lives  in  every  boat  that  by  night  or  by  day  goes  up  the  North 
River ;  in  eveiy  boat  that  ploughs  the  Sound  or  crosses  the  sea ;  in  all 
the  steamers  that  go  hither  and  thither  on  oceans  and  lakes  and  rivers, 
carrying  the  commerce  of  continents.  These  men  who  have  filled  the 
world  with   abbreviated  industries,  and  multiplied   the   wealth   and 


EAItTHLT  IMMORTALITY.  275 

resources  of  civilization  for  the  welfare  of  niankinfl,  are  mighty  men. 
Being  dead,  they  speak,  in  every  clattering  loom  or  in  every  crank  that 
is  plied  by  the  machinery  which  they  invented.  Where  iron  is,  where 
wood  is,  and  where  all  fobrics  are — there  are  they  at  work. 

The  old  mythologies  of  Vulcan  are  outdone,  and  we  have  men  that 
are  more  nearly  gods  than  ever  was  the  vulgar  Vulcan. 

The  man  who  builds  a  road  through  the  wilderness,  is  an  unknown 
benefoctor.  He  is  "  somebody ;"  and  it  is  a  pity  that  the  name  of 
that  somebody  was  not  put  where  it  should  be  known.  It  would  be  a 
glorious  thing  to  see  on  a  man's  tombstone  the  inscription,  "  An  hon- 
est man,  who  built  the  road  between  such  and  such  points."  The  man 
who  builds  a  bridge  over  a  stream  so  that  it  shall  last  for  generations ; 
the  man  who  shall  bnild  the  bridge  across  this  great  river*  on  our 
right  hand,  is  not  a  worker  for  himself  He  works  for  every  little  foot 
that  goes  safely  over  it.  He  works  for  every  mother  that  huiries  home 
to  her  darling  children.  He  works  for  every  poor  man  who  is  con- 
venienced  by  it.  Such  men  work  for  their  own  pittance  of  wages,  and 
they  work  for  the  time  in  which  they  live ;  but  dying,  they  shall  go  on 
si^eaking  for  the  benefit  of  their  fellow  men. 

Oh  !  that  men  might  know  how  much  benefit  there  is  in  mechani- 
cal occupations,  and  in  benevolent  art !  Oh !  that  men  might  take 
comfort  in  knowing  that  when  they  are  dead  they  shall  yet  speak  ! 

Experience  shows  that  these  advances  in  physical  things  are  more 
beneficently  felt  by  the  poor  than  by  others.  They  are  felt  by  the 
rich  ;  but  everything  that  contributes  to  the  convenience  and  pros- 
perity of  the  community,  and  so  raises  it  in  the  scale,  is,  first  or  last, 
a  greater  benefit  to  the  poor  than  to  any  others. 

It  is  not  the  selfish  or  personal  element  that  prolongs  one's  life. 
A  man  that  is  dead  is  not  to  be  remembered  simply  because  he  invented 
Bomething.  He  is  to  be  remembered  because  that  which  he  invented 
goes  on  working  benefit  after  he  is  dead.  And  as  long  as  it  is  doing 
good  to  men,  so  long  he  is  to  be  remembered.  It  is  that  which  we  do 
for  the  public  good  that  makes  our  physical  industries  virtuous  and 
beneficent. 

Next,  men  who  organize  their  money  into  public  uses,  live  as  long 
as  the  benefaction  itself  serves  the  public. 

Can  you  tell  me  who  were  the  rich  men  in  the  time  of  Queen 
Elizabeth?  Cannot?  They  puffed  themselves  up,  and  walked  doAvn 
the  streets,  rotund  and  vain,  and  were  as  gods ;  and  there  was  not  a 
lackey  in  all  London  that  could  not  have  told  you  who  they  were. 
What  has  become  of  those  rich  men  ?  They  are  dead  and  forgotten. 
But  caunot  gold  embalm  a  man  ?     Oh  no,  it  cannot  do  any  such  thing. 

*  The  £ait  River. 


276  EARTELT  IMMORTALITY. 

Men  can  be  embalmed ;  but  the  trouble  is  that  then  they  are  mummies, 
and  nobody  knows  or  cares  who  they  were.  They  are  good  for  some* 
thing.  We  can  use  them  to  boil  our  teakettle  with.  The  gum  and 
the  myrrh  and  the  what  not  that  are  used  to  preserve  a  mummy,  are 
good  to  boil  our  modern  teakettle  with.  But  we  do  not  care  for 
those  defunct  creatures  who  have  gone  and  left  nothing  but  them- 
selves. 

Can  you  tell  me  who  were  the  rich  men  a  hundred  and  fifty  or 
two  hundred  years  ago  in  New  York  ?  What !  not  any  of  them  ? 
Yes,  there  were  Watts,  Leake,  and  some  other  names,  that  I  might  call, 
if  I  had  time  to  search  for  them.  There  were  a  few  rich  men  whose 
names  have  come  down  to  us,  written  on  the  institutions  that  they 
founded.  But  what  about  all  the  rest  ?  What  has  become  of  those 
men  that  owned  the  most  ships  in  Boston,  in  New  York,  and  in  Phila- 
delj)hia?  They  are  gone;  and  they  make  just  as  good  dust  as  poor 
men  do.  Their  names  are  like  the  bubbles  which  childi-en  blow  of 
soapsuds  from  pipes  in  summer.  All  are  gone  except  the  men  who 
knew  how  to  organize  their  wealth  into  public  uses.  You  shall  find 
here  and  there  a  business  man,  a  great  saver,  a  man  that  had  the  genius 
of  making  and  keeping  money,  and  that  became  over-swollen  in  wealth, 
who  luckily  said,  "  I  will  give  some  millions  of  this  money  to  the  or- 
phans." And  so  Girard  slipped  through  into  immortality,  and  will  be 
remembered  because  he  took  money  out  of  his  own  pocket  and  put  it 
into  the  public  veins.  He  that  works  for  God's  great  scheme  of  benevo- 
lence shall  not  be  forgotten,  and  Gu-ard  has  hitched  himself  to  the  work 
of  benefitting  mankind,  and  he  cannot  be  disconnected  from  it.  As 
Ions:  as  time  shall  endure  his  is  a  name  that  men  will  be  interested 
in.  And  yet,  it  was  only  that  lucky  final  stroke  of  beneficence  that 
saved  him.  Had  it  not  been  for  that,  he  would  now  have  been  ocean- 
deep  in  forgetfulness.  There  have  lived  multitudes  of  men  that  were 
nearly  as  rich  as  he  was,  but  are  forgotten.  There  are  multitudes 
of  enormously  rich  nothings  living  now  in  New  York,  who  soon  will 
be  pricked  by  death  ;  and  then  in  a  moment  they  will  be  gone.  When 
the  proper  tears  have  been  shed,  and  the  proper  services  have  been 
hurried  over,  and  the  proper  pulling  and  hauling  has  been  gone  through 
with^  and  the  moneys  have  been  distributed,  nobody  will  care  for  them. 
What  does  a  thirsty  man  care  for  the  cloud  that  brought  the  water 
which  he  drinks?  He  has  got  what  he  wants,  and  the  cloud  is  gone, 
.and  is  forgotten.  And  heirs  forget  the  man  by  whom  money  is  handed 
down  to  them ;  or  they  only  remember  him  to  curse  him  for  living  so 
long,  and  worrying  out  their  patience  as  he  did.  A  man  that  is  a 
mere  muck-i'ake  has  nothing  in  him  that  men  want  to  remember.  I 
ilike  a  fire;  but  I  never  thought  of  praising  the  coalscuttle  in  which  the 


EARTHLY  IMMORTALITY.  277 

coal  was  brought  to  make  it.  ]\Icn  like  money ;  but  they  do  not  care 
for  those  who  scrape  it  together. 

If,  however,  a  man  organizes  his  money  so  that  when  he  is  gone 
that  money  keeps  at  work  for  the  best  side  of  human  nature,  and  for 
the  best  side  of  human  society,  then  that  man,  being  dead,  though  he 
was  rich,  yet  speaketh. 

There  is  many  a  man  who,  having  money,  says  to  his  right  hand,  to 
which  the  Lord  denied  the  sculptor's  art,  "  Thou  shalt  carve  a  statue ;" 
and  he  takes  some  poor  unfriended  artist  from  the  village,  and  endows 
him,  and  sends  him  to  Rome,  and  brings  him  back,  and  puts  him  into 
life.  Powers  and  Jackson  carve  beauteous  figm'es  to  last  for  genera- 
tions ;  and  it  is  the  rich  man  who  patronized  them  who  is  working 
thi"ough  the  men  that  he  fashioned  and  formed. 

There  is  many  a  man  who  says,  "  Oh  tongue !  thou  art  dumb ;  but 
thou  shalt  have  tongues  that  shall  speak."  And  he  searches  out  from 
among  the  poor  those  that  are  ambitious  to  learn,  and  that  are  likely 
to  become  scholars,  and  puts  them  forward,  and  sees  that  they  are  edu- 
cated. And  thereafter  this  worthy  minister,  this  true  statesman,  that 
wise  and  upright  lawyer,  and  this  unimpeachable  judge,  become,  as  it 
were,  an  extension  of  his  own  self  There  is  no  way  in  which  a  man 
can  use  a  little  capital  to  a  better  advantage  than  in  the  education  of 
young  men  and  young  women.  When  a  man  fashions  a  good  school- 
mistress or  a  good  nurse ;  when  a  man  prepares  one  to  be  a  good  al- 
moner and  helper  of  the  poor ;  when  a  man  takes  one  who  is  endowed 
with  signal  gifts,  and  gives  him  a  chance  to  act  in  life,  they,  as  it  were, 
take  something  of  his  individuality.  On  theii'  way  down  through  life 
and  to  immortality  they  carry  him  with  them.  And  so  the  man  who 
would  have  died  if  he  had  only  been  rich,  lives  in  other  men,  and  has 
an  immortality  which  distributes  itself  through  the  race. 

A  man  has  the  gift  of  wealth-amassing ;  and  he  says  to  himself, 
"  Selfish  gains  will  die  with  me,  and  be  buried  with  me  so  fai*  as  I  am 
concerned."  And  he  thinks  of  the  village  where  as  a  boy  he  played, 
and  remembers  its  banenness  from  want  of  taste  and  from  poverty,  and 
says,  "I  will  go  back  there,  and  that  village  shall  be  made  beautiful." 
And  not  only  does  he  build  there,  within  moderation,  and  with  taste 
and  beauty,  a  dwelling ;  but  his  house  becomes  the  measure  and  the 
mark  of  all  the  houses  in  the  neighborhood.  It  is  his  fence  that  set  all 
the  people  in  the  village  putting  their  fences  right.  Before,  they  did 
not  care  how  their  fences  looked ;  but  since  this  comely  fence  has  been 
built  and  kept  in  good  taste,  the  children  every  time  they  come  home, 
say  to  the  old  curmudgeon,  their  father,  "  How  our  fence  does  look ! " 
And  they  wony  him ;  and  the  wife  teases  him ;  and  by  and  by  they 
get  liim  to  put  up  a  pretty  fence.     And  more  generous  ideas  in  regard 


278  EARTELY  IMMORTALITY. 

to  houses  and  grounds  are  instilled  into  the  minds  of  the  young.  And 
the  young  men  and  maidens,  when  they  get  married,  and  settle  down 
in  life,  exercise  better  taste  in  fitting  up  their  homes.  Their  houses, 
though  small  and  plain,  are  more  tastefully  planned;  and  there  are 
more  trees  about  their  gi-ounds,  and  more  flowers  in  their  gardens. 
There  springs  up  on  every  side  an  imitation  of  that  rich  man's  exam- 
ple. And  in  the  course  of  twenty  or  twenty-five  yeai'S  he  wUl  have  re- 
generated the  taste  of  the  community. 

Or,  he  goes  beyond  that.  He  inspires  in  all  the  neighborhood  a 
disposition  for  beauty  by  planting  trees  along  the  highway.  He  says, 
"  There  lies  between  me  and  the  next  village  a  long  stretch  where  the 
wind  blows  remorselessly  in  winter,  and  where  the  sun  pours  down  its 
heat  on  the  weary,  over-spent  traveler  in  summer;  I  will  line  those  five 
miles  of  road  with  generous  elms,  and  will  pay  the  expense."  And  he 
lives  to  see  the  time  when,  reaching  across  the  road,  these  elms  meet  at 
the  top.  And  he  rides  many  times  through  the  long,  gi-een  colonade 
which  he  himself  has  made.  And  when  he  shall  have  been  dead  a 
hundred  years,  he  will  be  remembered  as  the  man  who  made  that  long 
walk  of  beauty. 

Oh !  that  I  could  remember  and  write  the  names  of  the  men  that 
planted  the  old  elms  in  Hadley,  and  Hatfield,  and  Springfield,  in  Mas- 
sachusetts, and  in  all  the  Connecticut  river  towns,  where  so  much 
beauty  was  so  cheaply  purchashed  for  generations  and  generations ! 
I  am  amazed  to  see  how  men  live — men  that  have  power  to  open  the 
cornucopia,  as  it  were,  and  pour  down  abundance  on  the  times  to  come, 
at  almost  no  expense,  and  that  yet  live  twenty  or  thirty  years  in  a  town, 
and  leave  it  at  the  end  of  that  time  as  ragged  and  squalid  as  it  was  at 
first. 

I  rode  from  "Warwick  to  Kenilworth  Castle — a  long  distance — 
under  columnar  trees ;  and  I  looked  up  and  blessed  God  for  those  an- 
cestors who  planted  this  magnificent  drive.  And  I  have  wished  that 
all  men,  not  only  in  New  England,  but  in  America,  might  know  what 
beauty,  what  refreshment,  what  refinement  and  gladness  there  is  in 
this  most  simple  method  of  decorating  one's  village  and  one's  neighbor- 
hood, or  the  roads  from  village  to  village.  For  they  who  bless  their 
fellow  men  by  such  benefactions,  become  almoners  of  taste  and  distri- 
butors of  comfort.  And  being  dead  they  yet  speak.  It  may  be  that 
they  do  not  speak  then-  own  names ;  but  they  speak  happiness  and 
satisfaction.  And  there  is  not  a  man  so  poor  that  he  cannot  set  out  a 
tree. 

There  are  young  men  here  who  never  heard  such  things  put  into 
a  sermon  before ;  but  you  will  never  forget  that  you  heard  them  to-day. 
There  are  young  men  here  who  are  going  to  be  rich ;   and  let  me  tell 


I 


EARTHLY  IMMORTALITY.  279 


you — and  you  will  never  forget  this — that  you  must  not  be  rich  for 
yourselves  alone,  but  that  you  must  organize  your  riches  so  as  to  make 
other  folks  happy  if  you  want  to  be  remembered.  Do  this,  and  as  long 
as  the  world  stands  you  will  never  be  forgotten.  And  if  you  want  to 
know  what  to  do,  let  me  tell  you  to  commence  doing  something  to- 
morrow. A  man  that  is  going  to  do  good  with  his  money  when  he  shall 
have  got  a  great  deal  of  it,  makes  a  bargain  with  the  devil ;  and  the 
devil  outwits  him.  Where  men  are  going  to  use  their  money  so  that 
it  will  do  good  when  they  get  through  with  it,  the  Lord  is  apt  to  get 
through  with  them  before  they  think  of  being  through  with  their 
money.  If  you  want  to  be  benevolent  by  and  by,  be  benevolent  now. 
Form  the  habit  of  being  benevolent  by  giving  at  least  a  little  of  your 
means  for  benevolent  purposes  as  you  go  along.  It  is  not  a  bad  rule 
to  lay  down,  for  every  man  to  say  to  himself,  "  I  will  spend  for  other 
people  one-tenth  of  the  clear  income  that  I  receive."  It  is  not  a  mere 
professional  saying.  I  tell  you,  if  you  give  away  a  portion  of  the  profits 
of  your  business  for  the  benefit  of  others,  it  will  sanctify  the  rest.  It 
will  bring  a  moral  element  into  your  life.  Say  to  yourself,  "  I  will  give 
one-tenth  part  of  my  receipts,  whether  those  receipts  are  large  or  small ; 
and  it  shall  go  for  the  good  of  others,  and  not  of  myself"  Wherever 
you  are,  and  Avhatever  cu'cumstances  you  are  in,  do  something  that  shall 
go  on  benefitting  men  after  you  are  dead,  if  it  is  only  to  plant  a  tree 
or  a  bush  to  beautify  a  house  or  enhance  the  comfort  of  travelers.  Do 
not  be  contented  with  simply  helping  your  own  self. 

How  much  more  is  this  true  of  those  who  lay  out  parks  for  the 
masses,  and  provide  such  magnificent  breathing  places  for  our  cities ! 
I  cannot  enough  express  my  gratitude  for  the  men  who  laid  out 
what  will  be  the  two  most  splendid  parks,  I  think,  that  will  exist  on 
earth,  when  they  are  completed,  and  when  they  shall  have  grown  to 
their  full  proportions — the  Central  Park  in  New  York,  and  the  Prospect 
Park  in  Brooklyn.  Mr.  Olmsted  might  very  well  rest  with  this  epi- 
taph :  "  He  was  the  Superintendent  of  the  two  great  parks."  For  it  is 
not  simply  what  they  are  that  is  to  measure  his  usefulness,  but  what 
they  will  do  in  leading  to  the  laying  out  of  other  parks  in  cities  that 
are  ambitious  of  distinction.  No  Boston,  no  Philadelphia,  no  Cincin- 
nati, no  Chicago,  no  city  of  importance,  can  afibrd  to  have  a  park  less 
excellent  than  those  of  New  York  and  Brooklyn.  And  blessed  are  the 
men  who  have  labored  to  put  forward  these  great  benefactions  of  the 
public,  which  hold  up  to  the  eyes  of  the  poor  and  needy  so  much  beau- 
ty, and  bring  thcni  into  such  sweet  commerce  with  God  in  nature,  and 
give  them  suoh  resting  places  and  such  bounties  for  their  leisure  days. 
And  cursed  be  they  whose  base  selfishness  hinders  the  pleutitudo  of 
this  bounty. 


280  EARTHLY  IMMORTALITY, 

Not  only  may  wealth  be  organized  into  institutions  of  secular 
pleasure  and  comfort  and  beauty,  but  it  may  be  organized  still  more 
potently  into  institutions  of  mercy — into  houses  of  refuge  ;  into  re- 
treats for  the  unfortunate ;  into  hospitals  for  the  sick ;  into  orphan 
asylums ;  into  houses  of  industry  and  of  employment.  These  forms  of 
mercy,  these  eleemosynary  organizations,  follow  society.  As  the  Com- 
missions followed  the  army,  and  picked  up  the  wounded  and  the  dying 
and  the  overspent,  and  ministered  to  them,  so  these  gi-eat  public  char- 
ities follow  in  the  wake  of  human  life,  and  pick  up  those  that  are  weak 
and  wounded  and  perishing.  And  then-  mercy  can  scarcely  be  esti- 
mated. There  ought  to  be,  not  fewer,  but  more  of  them.  They 
do  not  attain  to  the  first  rank ;  but  attempting  to  bind  up  the  wounds 
that  are  made,  is  second  only  to  preventing  the  making  of  wounds. 
No  man  in  his  life-time,  and  no  man  in  his  individual  experience,  can 
feel  or  do  what  he  can  organize  his  money  to  feel  or  do.  If  you  had 
countless  wealth,  and  all  the  poor  in  Brooklyn  should  make  procession 
by  your  house,  and  you  should  give  them  bountifully  of  your  store, 
you  could  not  do  by  your  alms  anything  like  the  good  that  you  would 
if  you  should  build  a  hospital  or  some  other  charitable  institution 
which  would  go  on  benefitting  the  poor  long  after  you  were  dead. 
You  will  die  in  a  score  of  years,  perhaps;  but  not  a  score  of  centuries 
need  slay  the  institution  which  you  have  reared.  Your  personal  sym- 
pathy will  reach  but  a  little  way ;  but  here  is  the  sympathy  of  this  organ- 
ized wealth  which  will  go  on  dealing  with  generations,  and  generations, 
and  generations  ;  and  it  will  be  just  as  fresh  a  thousand  years  hence, 
unwearied  and  unspent,  as  it  was  the  hour  when  it  was  established. 

Oh  !  what  a  benefaction  for  any  man  that  has  money,  and  has  faith 
to  see  how  it  can  work  after  he  is  gone,  and  a  heart  to  set  it  to  work ! 
Being  dead,  he  speaks,  and  speaks  chorally. 

But  even  more  important  are  those  institutions  which  go  before 
society,  march  ahead,  as  it  were,  and,  by  distributing  intelligence  and 
promoting  virtue,  prevent  suffering.  The  institution  which  prevents 
crime  and  vice  and  suffering,  is  more  beneficent  than  that  which  at- 
tempts to  remedy  them  after  they  have  happened.  Therefore  all  those 
institutions  which  stimulate  and  develop  important  truths  for  the 
world  cannot  be  over-estimated.  There  are  a  great  many  of  them.  In 
this  class  are  the  premiums,  endowments,  prizes.  Take,  for  mstance, 
that  single  foundation,  the  Bampton  Lectures.  A  New  England  man, 
dying,  left  a  fund  the  income  of  which  every  year  was  to  be  devoted 
to  paying  for  a  course  of  lectures  which  were  to  vindicate  the  authen- 
ticity of  the  Scriptures,  and  the  divinity  of  our  Lord,  and  the  evangel- 
ical religion.  From  that  fund  there  has  sprung  a  line  of  lectures  that 
constitutes  one  of  the  most  noble  monuments  of  learning  and  piety 


EARTHLY  IMMORTALITY.  281 

that  hfis  been  known  in  any  language  on  the  globe.  Conld  money  be 
made  to  work  such  important  results  in  any  other  way?  A  man  that 
shall  endow  a  jirize  in  any  line  of  science,  in  any  line  of  invention,  in 
any  line  of  the  vindication  of  truths,  puts  his  money  where  it  will  work 
as  a  perpetual  lever  and  stimulus ;  and  no  man  can  estimate  the  power 
and  the  value  of  it. 

Then  there  are  those  institutions  which  diffuse  knowledge,  such  as 
libraries  and  reading-rooms.  And  yet,  brethren,  I  think  these  are  in 
theii'  infoncy.  We  have  but  the  germ  of  what  I  hope  will  ere  long 
exist.  We  must  have  these  institutions  removed  from  places  of  dissi- 
pation and  temptation,  and  must  endow  them  amply,  and  must  take 
the  stiffness  from  them,  so  that  they  shall  be  homes  useable  and  fa- 
miliar. Look  at  the  Free  Reading  Room  of  the  city  of  Boston.  I 
mention  it  because  it  is  connected  Avith  one  of  the  noblest  libraries  in 
one  of  the  most  magnificent  buildings  in  any  city,  and  because  it  is 
sumptuously  provided,  and  is  open  freely  to  every  man,  no  matter  how 
poor,  who  chooses  to  avail  himself  of  its  privileges,  either  of  reading 
books  there,  or  taking  them  to  his  house  to  read.  It  is  a  free-will  of- 
fering, and  is  welcome  to  the  poorest  of  the  poor,  clear  down  to  the 
bottom  of  society,  as  well  as  to  the  rich. 

Now,  when  Christianity  makes  a  gift  to  the  poor,  it  cannot  afford 
to  pick  off  the  meanest  products  of  the  tree,  and  say  to  them,  "  You  are 
poor,  and  you  can  eat  this  worm-eaten  fruit."  When  Christianity 
gives  to  the  poor,  it  is  bound  to  give  them  the  best  it  has.  Therefore, 
when  you  build  missions  for  the  poor,  build  them  better  than  your  own 
churches.  When  you  open  reading-rooms  for  the  poor,  make  then? 
more  sumptiious  than  the  reading-rooms  which  you  open  for  yourselves 
and  your  children.  Be  more  generous  to  the  poor  than  you  are  to 
yourselves.  That  is  the  spirit  of  Christianity.  Be  more  kind  to  them 
than  you  are  to  yourselves.  That  is  the  true  inspu-ation  of  Christianity. 
And  when  men  shall  understand  this,  and  begin  to  endow  missions 
and  reading-rooms  for  the  poor — magnificently  endow  them,  so  that 
they  will  go  on  working  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  years — they  can 
afford  to  rest  from  then-  labor  and  go  to  heaven ;  for  being  dead  they 
shall  speak  in  the  things  they  have  done,  and  carry  comfort  and  en- 
couragement and  relaxation  and  knowledge  to  those  who  most  need 
them.  A  man  might  well  place  before  him  in  life  this  single  ambition, 
"  I  will  make  myself  so  well  off  that  I  shall  have  enough  to  build  a  kind 
of  home  for  the  poor,  so  that  when  my  family  shall  be  scattered,  there 
shall  be  gathered  a  larger  family  whom  I  have  blessed."  Oh !  how 
poor  the  vision  of  a  life  of  pleasure  seems  in  comparison  and  contrast 
with  these  munificent  and  noble  ways  of  life ! 

So,  men  that  establish  academies,  and  colleges,  and  universities,  livo 


282  EARTHLT  IMMORTALITY. 

forever,  and  live,  too,  in  a  way  that  an  angel  might  be  proud  to  live. 
They  that  established  Harvard — who,  even  with  heavenly  arithmetic, 
can  compute  what  their  money  has  done  since  they  have  gone  home  ? 
Is  not  the  name  of  Yale  familiar  to  every  intelligent  man  on  the  conti- 
nent because  he  endowed  the  College  at  New  Haven  ?  And  men  will 
yet  carry  down  to  thousands  of  years  hence  that  great  name.  And 
Cornell's  name  is  rescued  already,  as,  also,  is  Vassar's,  and  Drew's,  and 
Astor's,  that  would  not  have  sounded  far  down  in  the  future  if  they 
had  not  had  an  inspiration  which  taught  them  to  found  seminaries  for 
the  discovery  and  propagation  of  knowledge  among  the  masses  of  men. 

These  endowments  have  in  them  immortality  on  earth.  This  is  the 
reason  why  I  say  that  men  ought  not  to  be  poor  if  they  can  be  rich. 
There  is  a  power  in  wealth,  when  it  is  guarded  by  benevolence,  which 
no  man  has  a  right  to  despise.  Having  such  a  sword  as  that  with 
which  to  slay  ignorance,  no  man  ought  to  refuse  to  draw  it  from  its 
sheath.  Gain  wealth,  and  then  endow  institutions.  That  is  the  way 
to  use  wealth  to  a  good  purpose. 

We  may  rise  to  a  higher  grade,  and  to  a  more  familiar  ground 
therefore,  since  it  is  more  frequently  inculcated  in  the  pulpit.  As  vir- 
tue and  spirituality  are  higher  than  physical  qualities ;  as  the  wealth 
of  society  lies  more  in  the  goodness  of  Christian  institutions  and  Chris- 
tian men  than  in  ease,  or  abundance,  or  pleasure ;  so  he  most  wisely 
prolongs  his  life  to  after-days  who  so  lives  as  to  give  form  and  perpe- 
tuity to  spiritual  influences.  Whoever  makes  the  simple  vu'tues  more 
honorable  and  attractive  among  men,  prolongs  his  own  life. 

The  evil  of  untruth  I  need  not  expound  to  you.  He  who  makes 
truth  beautiful  to  men  in  his  day  ;  he  who  makes  men  want  to  be  true, 
and  seek  after  truth,  and  believe  in  it,  becomes  a  benefactor.  So  that 
I  think  one  single  character  in  Walter  Scott's  novels  is  worth  more 
than  all  the  characters  put  together  of  many  more  fashionable  novels. 
For,  after  all  is  said  and  done,  if  all  the  novels  of  the  globe  were  burned 
but  that,  I  think  we  should  have  enough  yet.  There  is  Jeanie  Deans, 
who,  standing  in  court,  had  it  in  her  power,  apparently,  to  clear  her 
sister  of  disgrace  and  death  by  simple  vacillation ;  by  simple  prevari- 
cation ;  by  giving  up  the  truth ;  and  not  even  the  love  of  her  father, 
who  seemed  about  to  die  before  her  eyes,  nor  the  love  of  the  sister  of 
her  bosom,  could  make  her  swerve.  She  must  tell  the  triith,  though  it 
slew  her  and  every  other  one.  And  I  think  there  is  more  heroic  power 
in  that  simple  character  in  "  The  Heart  of  Mid-Lothian,"  than  in  many 
a  moral  treatise,  and  many  a  system  of  moral  philosophy.  She,  to  the 
end  of  the  world,  will  make  telling  the  truth  seem  more  noble  and  heroic, 
and  so  will  make  men  nobler  and  more  heroic.  He  who  stands  in  the 
midst  of  dangers  with  every  temptation  to  be  a  coward,  but  \i\xo  Is  so 


EARTHLY  IMMORTALITY,  283 

true  tliat  calmly  he  sacrifices  bis  life  to  fidelity,  makes  the  simple  virtue 
of  fidelity  so  beautiful  and  heroic  that  he  lives  still  in  the  vitality  which 
he  has  given  to  that  moral  element. 

I  would  that  the  heroic  deeds  of  noble  black  men  were  recorded. 
How  many  dusky  faces  went  down  in  oiu-  war  without  a  name !  When, 
in  the  extreme  South,  a  boat  containing  a  party  of  our  men,  had  stuck 
on  the  shoals,  and  they  were  obliged  to  lie  down  to  escape  the  showers 
of  balls  that  were  flying  in  every  direction,  a  stout  black  man  said, 
"  Somebody  must  be  hit  to  get  dis  yer  boat  out  of  danger,"  and  sprung 
overboard,  and  put  his  shoulder  to  the  gunnel,  and  shoved  her  ofl';  and 
Avhile  the  party  escaped,  he,  pierced,  fell  into  the  stream,  and  died. 
He  knew  what  he  risked ;  but  he  said,  in  his  soul,  *'  Here  are  these  my 
friends.  They  must  all  jierish,  or  some  one  must  take  the  risk.  I  take 
it."  Such  a  name  ought  not  to  perish.  Such  an  example  ought  not  to 
be  forgotten — and  all  the  more  because  it  is  the  example  of  a  man  in 
lowly  circumstances.  It  lifts  up  the  heroism  of  self-sacrifice,  and  makes 
it  better  worth  one's  while  to  be  a  man,  and  makes  life  more  noble  and 
more  radiant,  and  corrects  that  unbelief  in  moral  qualities  which  is  the 
bane  and  curse  of  the  world. 

Whoever  suffers  for  a  truth,  whoever  endures  heroically  for  a  vir- 
tue, not  only  saves  his  own  name,  but  gives  a  force  and  a  perpetuity  to 
humble  virtues  that  will  open  men's  hearts  to  them,  and  will  make 
their  empire  beautiful  and  potential. 

All  who  have  opened  the  divine  nature  to  men  ;  all  who  have  de- 
veloped to  men  higher  moral  truths,  and  made  them  like  their  daily 
bread ;  all  who  have  lifted  the  life  of  the  world  up  into  a  higher  sphere 
— they,  although  dead,  yet  speak.  They  may  not  be  spoken  of;  but^ 
what  is  more  to  the  point,  they  themselves  speak,  and  speak  the  same 
language  ;  and  all  the  better,  because  when  a  man  is  dead  the  pre- 
judices and  the  imperfections  that  lingered  about  him  are  dead,  too. 
And  then  his  voice  becomes  clearer,  and  his  testimony  is  more  widely 
received.  Men  will  listen  to  the  truth  that  dead  men  speak  who  would 
not  listen  to  the  same  truth  spoken  by  them  when  they  were  alive. 
Speak  on,  then.  And  if,  in  the  midst  of  reproach  and  contumely,  you 
are  bearing  witness  to  nobler  truths,  and  the  men  that  you  live  among 
will  not  hear  you,  take  courage  from  the  assm-ance  that  there  will  come 
a  time  when  men  will  open  their  ears  to  you.  And  if  you  give  your 
life  to  the  generation  in  which  you  live,  all  the  more  jiowcrful  will  be 
your  testimony  ;  and  being  dead  you  will  preach  and  teach  yet. 

Lastly,  those  who  have  the  gift  of  embodying  moral  truths  and 
noble  experiences  (which  are  the  best  truths  that  ever  dawn  on  the 
the  world)  in  verse  ;  those  who  have  the  power  to  give  their  higher 
thoughts  and  feelings  the  wings  of  poetry — they,  being  dead,  speak 


284  EARTELT  IMMORTALITY, 

fai-  back,  TVe  hear  Ilomer  chanting  yet,  and  chanting  the  best  things 
that  men  knew  in  his  day.  And  the  world  is  still  willing  to  listen  to 
the  oldest  poet.  Going  fuither  down,  in  the  majestic  numbers  of 
the  Hebrew  Testament  we  find  the  most  sublime  truths  of  God 
and  of  destiny  in  poetic  forms ;  and  the  world  is  never  weary  of 
listening  to  them.  They  reappear  in  every  form  of  translation.  They 
are  as  fresh  to-day  as  they  were  on  the  day  they  were  uttered.  And 
since  that  time,  in  every  nation,  bards  have  sprung  up.  And  there 
have  been  singers  for  the  devil  as  well  as  for  God ;  the  name  of  the 
wicked  shall  rot ;  and  the  fame  of  wicked  men,  that  has  for  a  little 
time  had  its  bad  currency,  sinks  more  and  more  away,  and  becomes 
the  slime  and  the  sediment  of  the  ever-rolling  stream  of  life.  But  the 
voice  of  men  who  speak  for  love  and  purity  and  immortality,  grows 
sweeter  and  clearer  with  time.  And  he  who  has  had  permission  to 
write  one  genuine  hymn,  to  send  forth  one  noble  sonnet,  to  sing  one 
stately  epic,  may  well  lold  his  wings  and  his  hands,  and  say,  "Now  let 
thy  servant  depart  in  peace," 

What  are  you  doing,  my  brother  ?  What  are  you  doing,  my  sis- 
ter? Young  man,  what  do  you  propose  ?  Will  you  build  pyramids 
of  stone,  or  will  you  build  pyramids  of  thought  ?  Will  you  live  to 
make  yourself  a  little  happier  for  a  few  years  than  otherwise  you 
■would  have  been ;  or,  will  you  forget  yourself,  remembering  the  sub- 
lime meaning  of  the  Master's  words.  He  that  will  save  his  life  shall 
lose  itf  He  that  seeks  present  ease,  present  power  and  present  wealth, 
without  regard  to  the  welfare  of  men,  shall  lose  everything  that  he 
strives  for,  and  his  own  name  shall  be  forgotten.  He  that  will  lose 
his  life  for  my  saJce  shall  find  it.  He  that  puts  his  life  into  doing 
good ;  he  that  would  purify  men  ;  he  that  would  suffer  for  the  sake  of 
suffering  men  ;  he  that  puts  the  enginery  of  feeling  and  the  power  of 
business  into  the  work  of  beneficence  in  this  world,  though  he  may  be 
subject  to  obloquy,  though  he  may  be  under  a  cloud,  though  he  may 
lose  himself,  will  be  remembered  when  he  is  dead.  The  time  will 
come  when  his  name  will  shine  out  brighter  than  the  morning  star. 

May  God  give  you  wisdom,  not  vainly  to  sit  and  wish  that  you 
might  be  known  in  after  times,  but  to  understand  that  he  who  makes 
his  life  an  instrument  for  pi-omoting  the  happiness  of  others,  being 
dead,  shall  yet  speak.  He  shall  rise  to  immortality,  and  to  the  society 
of  just  men  made  perfect,  and  of  God,  the  Judge  of  all.  And  there, 
through  an  endless  life,  he  shall  yet  speak  joy,  and  shout  praise,  and  be 
as  the  angels  of  God  forevermore. 


EAUTnLT  IMMORTALITY,  285 


PRAYER  BEFORE  TIIE  SERMON. 

We  adore  and  bless  thee,  our  Father.  Far  above  us  art  thou.  Thou  art 
beyond  our  comprehension.  Thy  nature  transcends  all  that  we  know,  or 
can  know,  in  goodness,  in  wisdom,  and  in  power.  Nor  can  we  understand 
the  conditions  of  thy  being,  since  we  cannot  go  beyond  our  own.  But  we 
rejoice  that  thou  art  more,  so  that  when  we  see  thee  as  thou  art,  face  to 
face,  we  shall  not  be  disappointed,  but  shall  be  satisfied.  Filled  with  the 
utmost  imagination  of  excellence,  and  beauty  and  majesty,  thou  art  still  more 
sublime  than  all  our  thought  of  thee,  or  than  any  tiling  that  we  can  think. 
We  rejoice  that  we  shall  find  thee  more  full  of  graciousness,  and  more  won- 
derful in  love,  and  in  that  sphere  of  perfected  life  which  shall  work  that 
which  it  is  not  given  in  the  winter  of  this  life  to  do.  In  all  plentitude  and 
power,  it  shall  become  then  the  law,  and  the  fruit  thereof  shall  be  a  blessed- 
ness which  it  hath  not  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive.  We  desire 
to  walk  by  faith  of  that  blessed  land,  and  of  that  glorious  and  final  vision 
of  God.  We  desire  to  live  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible.  We  desire  to  live 
though  our  senses  do  not  help  us.  We  desire  to  take  the  inspirations  of 
our  heart,  the  intuitions  of  our  moral  nature;  and  we  desire  by  thee  to  be 
led  far  above  ourselves,  or  above  men,  or  above  anything  we  can  know  of 
thee.  And  though  by  searching  we  can  not  find  thee  out  unto  perfection, 
we  can  find  out  enough  for  love,  and  joy,  and  trust,  and  hope,  and  grati- 
tude. 

And  now,  we  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord  our  God,  pour  thyself  in  upon  thy 
children  to-day.  There  are  those  here  who  know  themselves  to  be  thine. 
Their  hearts  cry  out  for  God.  Their  spontaneous  nature  unuttered,  is.  Our 
Father.  By  this  token  they  know  of  their  adoption.  And  we  beseech  of 
thee  that  they  may  have  the  witness  of  the  Spirit  in  them  to-day,  and  that 
they  may  rejoice  in  this  heirship.  All  things  are  theirs.  Thou  art  theirs. 
And  with  thee  they  are  heirs  to  an  eternal  inhtritance.  Thy  providence, 
thy  grace,  thy  wisdom,  and  thy  goodness,  surround  them  here.  Thou  dost 
guide  them.  Thou  dost  succor  them  in  temptation.  Thou  dost  comfort 
them  in  sorrow.  Thou  art  tender  and  gracious  to  them  in  infirmities.  And 
even  their  sins  are  not  set  down  against  them.  Thou  dost  forgive  iniquity, 
transgression,  and  sin.  And  we  thank  thee  that  thus  they  are  walled  about 
by  thy  goodness.  They  are  borne  as  in  the  Lord's  chariot  of  love.  And 
they  shall  finally  be  saved.  For  thou  hast  overcome  death  and  Satan.  And 
the  power  of  darknese  and  the  power  of  light  shall  not  be  able  to  prevail 
against  thee  and  thine  own. 

And  now,  Lord,  we  pray  that  this  may  be  a  day  of  joy  among  thy  peo- 
ple. May  they  confess  their  sins,  knowing  that  thou  art  willing  to  forgive 
him  that  confesses  thy  mercies  to  him,  and  rejoice  with  thanksgiving  and 
gratitude.  We  pray  that  their  hearts  may  be  ready  to-day  to  call  up  from 
the  past  the  memories  of  all  thy  mercies,  long  extended.  IIow  many  hast 
thou  spared  in  hours  of  critical  danger!  How  many  have  seemed  to  them- 
selves under  the  impending  cloud  whose  bolt  was  about  to  descend  upon  their 
head  !  and  thou  didst  cause  the  storm  to  pass  by ;  and  they  were  rescued, 
and  did  not  fall  down  under  the  blasting  stroke.  IIow  many  have  been 
sick,  and  have  been  rescued  from  the  grave!  How  many  little  prayers  and 
importunities  are  answered  I  How  often  has  the  goodness  of  God  been  vin- 
dicated in  the  exigencies  of  past  experience!  Who  of  us  has  not  cause  to 
recognize  thy  sovereign  mercy  ?  May  thy  people  to-day,  with  humility  and 
with  thanksgiving,  be  grateful  to  thee,  and  pour  out  their  hearts  before  thee. 
We  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  the  families  that  are 
represented  in  this  congregation.  Help  thy  servants  to  minister  in  holy 
thinf^s  in  their  households,  to  walk  before  their  children  blameless,  and  to 
bring  them  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord.     We  pray  that 


286  EARTELT  IMMORTALITY, 

thy  kin<jflom  mny  come,  and  thy  will  be  done  every  where,  in  the  households 
of  our  congregation. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord  our  God  !  that  thou  wilt  strengthen  thy  ser- 
vants, and  prepare  them  for  thy  will  and  for  thy  work.  And  we  pray  that 
thou  wilt  bless  those  who  go  forth  to  teach  ;  and  may  they  themselves  be 
qualified  by  thy  Spirit  for  blessed  teaching. 

Bless  thy  cause  in  every  form,  and  in  all  places.  Bless  assemblies  of  thy 
people  of  every  name.  Wilt  thou  unite  thy  Churches  more  cordially  in 
sympathy  and  in  love.  While  men  differ  in  things  remote  and  outward, 
may  they  more  and  more  be  joined  in  inward  experiences — in  faith,  and 
love,  and  holy  hope,  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  nations  of  the  earth.  Bless  our  own 
nation.  Purge  it  from  iniquity.  Deliver  it  from  evil  laws  and  evil  rulers. 
Destroy  selfishness.  Prevent  avarice  from  breaking  over  all  bounds.  Grant 
that  thy  kingdom  may  come  in  the  hearts  of  this  great  people  ;  that  they 
may  serve  the  Lord,  and  love  their  fellow  men,  and  purify  themselves  from 
evil  works,  and  be  an  acceptable  people  unto  God.  And  may  all  the  na- 
tions that  in  their  weakness  are  struggling  for  their  birthright  be  helped 
of  thee.  May  darkness  flee  away ;  may  superstition  cease ;  may  wisdom 
prevail ;  may  liberty,  and  purity,  and  true  Christian  manliness  everywhere 
abound  ;  and  may  thy  kingdom  come  and  thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is 
in  heaven. 

Which  we  ask  for  Christ  Jesus'  sake.    Amm. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  us  with  the  light  of  the  truth,  and 
with  the  knowledge  of  thy  word.  And  grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  they  may 
temper  our  desires,  and  restrain  our  selfish  passions,  and  inspire  our  gener- 
ous sentiments.  Lead  us  to  plan,  in  this  life,  not  for  ourselves,  but  through 
ourselves  for  others ;  so  that  we  may  have  a  larger  life — a  life  which  death 
cannot  touch ;  which  age  cannot  impair ;  on  which  weakness  shall  have  no 
power;  which  clouds  cannot  conceal  nor  storms  blight.  So  may  we  learn 
the  great  art  of  building  that  we  shall  build  beyond  the  reach  and  touch  of 
time  ;  that  we  shall  build  for  immortality.  And  then,  where  neither  death 
nor  weakness  shall  come  any  more,  in  thine  own  heavenly  kingdom,  may  we 
rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory. 

We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake.    Amm. 


XVI. 

Merchant-Clerks  of  our  Cities. 


MERCHANT-CLERKS  OE  OUR  CITIES. 


"Hear  thon,  my  son,  and  be  wise,  and  guide  thy  heart  in  the  way.  Be 
not  among  wine-bibbtTs ;  among  riotous  eaters  ofliush;  for  the  drunkard 
and  the  glutton  shall  come  to  poverty;  and  drowsiness  shall  clothe  a  man 
with  rags.  Hearken  unto  thy  father  that  begat  thee,  and  despise  not  thy 
mother  when  she  is  old.  Buy  the  truth,  and  sell  it  not ;  also  wisdom,  and 
instruction,  and  understanding". — Piiov.  XXIII,  19-23. 


That  human  nature  is  substantially  the  same  in  every  age  and  in 
every  nation,  might  be  inferred  from  Avhat  we  know  of  the  human 
mind  itself;  for  the  variations  are  only  in  details.  The  real  forms  of 
passion  and  appetite  and  affection  and  sentiment  are  the  same  every- 
where, with  or  without  culture. 

It  is,  however,  still  more  strikingly  shown  in  that  the  descriptions 
of  temptation  were  given  thousands  and  thousands  of  years  ago ;  and 
the  warnings  which  were  uttered  against  special  and  j^eculiar  dangers, 
are  just  as  well  fitted  to  our  age  as  they  were  to  the  age  in  which  they 
were  uttered. 

The  peculiar  sins  to  which  commercial  communities  are  liable,  are 
just  as  real  in  New  York,  and  in  the  great  cities  of  our  land,  as  they 
were  in  the  trading  communities  on  the  borders  of  the  Mediterranean 
Sea,  in  the  days  of  King  Solomon,  The  warnings  that  were  given, 
three  thousand  years  ago  in  Jerusalem,  to  young  men,  have  just  as 
much  freshness  and  applicability  now,  in  American  States,  on  a  conti- 
nent which  was  not  then  dreamed  of.  Human  nature  is  substantially 
the  same  in  all  ages,  as  regards  its  temptations,  its  perils  and  its  rescue. 

Great  cities  are  peculiarly  thronged  with  the  young.  They  abound 
in  solicitations  to  evil.  They  have  also  many  privileges  and  advan- 
tages for  good.  They  have  a  strong  social  impulse  in  them  to  which 
the  young  are  peculiarly  susceptible.  They  provide  a  certain  secrecy, 
too,  which  is  congenial  to  erring  courses — especially  in  their  begin- 
nings. At  home,  in  one-streeted  villages,  where  every  house  is  glass, 
as  it  were,  and  eveiy  neighbor  know'S  altogether  too  much  of  eveiy 
other  neighbor,  it  is  difiicult  for  men  to  go  in  by  and  forbidden  paths 
without  observation ;  but  a  great  city  is  at  once  a  great  garden  of 
poisonous  as  well  as  wholesome  fruit.  It  is,  also,  by  its  very  raultitu- 
dinousness,  by  the  vast  numbers  of  separated  circles,  and  by  the  impos- 

Si-xriAT  EvKKiNa,  June  12, 1870.  Lesson  :  Phov.  n.  Hyuns  (Plymouth  Collection ) :  Not. 
1321,  564,  S6^. 


288  MERCnANT-CLEBKS  OF  OUR  CITIES. 

sibility  of  men's  taking  cognizance  of  their  fellow  men,  a  kind  of  shield 
which  men  put  between  them  and  observation.  And  so,  men  axe 
shielded,  in  great  communities,  from  the  self-condemnation  which  they 
would  experience  if  they  were  in  solitary  places,  or  in  smaller  commu- 
nities, inasmuch  as  they  find  class-surroundings.  There  is  a  certain 
public  sentiment  in  every  line  of  good  conduct,  and  in  every  line  of 
bad.  Whatever  men  do  that  is  perverse,  they  need  but  little  time  to 
find  out  that  there  are  other  men  doing  the  same  thing.  The  great- 
ness of  the  population  enables  each  particular  class  to  gather  to 
itself  its  own  elect.  And  aside  from  the  stimulus  which  they  give  di- 
rectly to  each  other,  by  community  of  evil,  there  is  this  incidental  influ- 
ence derived  from  it,  that  it  shields  men  from  the  condemnation  of 
their  own  moral  sense,  and  in  some  sort  makes  apologies  and  excuses 
respectable,  or  semi-respectable. 

I  might  speak  of  the  influences  which  conspire,  in  these  cities,  to 
undermine  the  virtue  of  the  young — especially  then*  truth  and  honesty. 
I  might  speak  of  the  influences  which  tend  to  pervert  the  normal  forces 
of  industry,  and  which  teach  men  to  seek  success  and  prosperity  by 
crooked,  abbreviated,  gambling  ways.  These  are  dangers  instant, 
pressing,  vehement.  They  are  connected,  also,  more  or  less  intimately, 
with  the  prime  danger  of  which  I  shall  speak  in  a  moment.  But  they 
require,  each  of  them,  severally,  a  sermon.  I  shall,  therefore,  confine 
myself,  to-night,  to  the  single  theme  of  convivial  pleasures  and  their 
dangers. 

As  we  are  not,  naturally,  a  nation  of  gluttons ;  as  gluttony  is  but  an 
occasional  or  accidental  evil,  I  shall  confine  myself  mainly  to  the  dan- 
gers that  betide  young  business  men  in  this  great  city  (for  I  regard 
Brooklyn  and  New  York  as  substantially  one)  from  strong  drink.  I 
wish,  to-night,  to  speak  to  the  clerks  of  this  city,  on  the  prevailing 
di-inking  usages,  and  the  dangers  which  threaten  them  from  strong 
drmk. 

It  is  perilous  to  leave  home  at  just  the  time  when  a  great  majority 
of  young  men  do.  They  come  down  to  New  York  to  seek  their  for- 
tune. It  is  just  at  that  time  when  a  transition  has  been  made,  but  has 
scarcely  become  confirmed,  from  youth  to  early  manhood.  They  are 
in  the  strength  and  exhilaration  of  hopefulness.  They  are  full  of  eager 
ambition.  They  are  impelled  by  the  full  force  of  their  ripening  pas- 
sions. It  is  a  time  which  is  full  of  amiableness,  full  of  beauty,  full  of 
courage,  full  of  trust  in  honor,  full  of  endeavor,  and  full  of  other  ten- 
dencies by  which  these  nobler  traits  may  be  easily  pei-verted.  It  is  a 
time  when  one  needs  not  so  much  the  hand  of  obvious  authority,  which 
the  young  are  apt  to  rebel  against,  as  that  invisible  and  more  kindly 
restraint  which  comes  from  influence ;  from  social  surroundings ;  from 


MERCHANT- CLERKS  OF  OUR  CITIES.  289 

that  most  wholesome  of  influences,  home-influence.  But  the  young 
ai'e  early  sent  abroad,  if  they  are  prospered  in  life — at  fifteen,  if  not 
earlier  ;  or  are  sent  into  commercial  life,  if  they  are  in  limited  circum- 
stances. Young  men  come  to  New  York  to  commence  business  when 
they  are  but  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  of  age.  At  just  the  time  when 
they  need  both  father  and  mother,  they  lose  them  both.  At  just  the 
time  when  they  need  kindly  influence  exerted  upon  them  from  day  to 
day,  they  find  themselves  their  own  masters,  without  any  one  to  whom 
they  can  go  for  advice.  In  ten  thousand  instances  they  are  surrounded 
by  those  who  prefer  to  give  them  bad  advice.  They  are  left  to  them- 
selves in  the  most  perilous  circumstances ;  under  the  most  pernicious 
temptations ;  amidst  wiles,  and  seductions,  and  blandishments,  and 
blinding  influences.  You  can  scarcely  place  a  young  man  in  a  situa- 
tion more  perilous,  at  fifteen,  than  that  in  which  he  is  placed  in  the 
ciiy  of  New  York,  where  he  has  none  that  care  for  him ;  where  he  has 
no  refuge  ;  where  he  has  no  supply  for  the  natural  and  normal  devel- 
opments of  his  aflJections  and  taste. 

This  leads  me  to  speak,  next,  of  the  surroundings  of  the  young  who 
come  hither.  They  live  in  a  state  which  is  peculiarly  unfiivorable  to 
self-restraint.  The  conformation  of  the  city  of  New  York  is  adverse 
to  virtue,  I  think.  A  round  city  may  so  mingle  homes  and  stores  that 
business  men  can  more  easily  stej)  to  their  own  houses  for  their  meals 
than  elsewhere ;  but  in  a  long  and  straggling  city  like  New  York, 
where  men  live  three  and  five  miles  from  then'  business,  so  that  a  jour- 
ney must  be  performed  every  time  they  go  home,  it  is  indispensable 
that  they  should  take  then*  meals  in  whole  or  in  part  at  eating-houses. 
And,  as  if  to  make  it  completely  bad,  thousands  and  thousands  sleep 
in  the  shop  and  in  the  store,  out  of  all  the  warm  and  fresh  and  genial 
influences  of  home.  During  the  most  susceptible  period  of  youth,  they 
find  themselves  sleeping  on  the  counter  at  night,  without  a  virtuous 
friend  near  them,  or  with  only  their  young  associates.  And  the  table 
at  which  they  eat  might  as  well  be  spread  in  Broadway,  so  far  as  pri- 
vacy or  any  resemblance  to  their  home-table,  is  concerned. 

I  do  not  say  that  the  young  ought  not  to  brace  up,  and  that  it  is 
not  becoming  in  them,  and  to  be  expected  of  them,  that  they  shall 
adapt  themselvos  to  their  circumstances,  and  prove  their  manhood  and 
integrity  in  the  midst  of  adverse  influences ;  but  in  every  score  of  men 
there  are  nine  or  ten  who  are  weak,  who  need  to  be  helped,  whose  life 
will  fail  if  it  is  not  crutched  up,  and  who  are  largely  dependent  upoa 
their  social  surroundings  for  what  they  are. 

Thus  the  young,  in  coming  to  New  York,  find  themselves  not  only- 
homeless,  but  placed  in  social  circumstances  which  peculiarly  tend  to 
demoralize  them,  in  the  incipient  stages  of  demoralization. 


290  MERCHANT-CLERKS  OF  OUR  CITIES. 

They  are  soon  brought  to  the  question  of  company.  It  is  desolate, 
after  the  labor  of  the  day,  for  a  man  to  have  nowhere  to  go ;  especially 
a  young  man  that  is  homesick — and  I  hope  that  every  young  man  is. 
I  do  not  like  to  hear  a  man  say  that  he  never  has  been  homesick.  It 
indicates  a  kind  of  hardness  which  I  do  not  envy,  and  would  not  cher- 
ish. Where  a  young  man  is  tired,  and  has  nothing  to  do,  and  has  no 
pleasant  bed-room  even,  and  no  society,  and  is  alone  in  a  store  that 
has  become,  after  weeks  and  months,  odious  to  him,  how  natural  it  is 
that  he  should  seek  company !  And  if  he  can  find  it  nowhere  else,  he 
will  seek  it  on  the  street,  or  in  places  of  amusement.  And  what  such 
society  is,  I  need  not  tell  you.     I  blame  it,  and  I  pity  it. 

It  may  be  well,  and  it  may  be  a  duty,  for  us  to  rebuke  all  such  mis- 
conduct as  springs  from  these  sources ;  but  not  without  letting  it  be  un- 
derstood that  we  appreciate  the  weakness  of  men,  and  that  we  see  that 
there  is  great  stress  brought  to  bear  upon  them.  And  how  heavy,  under 
such  circumstances,  hangs  Sunday !  What  is  Sunday  here  to  those  who 
have  been  accustomed  to  go  to  church  in  the  country,  where  they  knew 
everybody,  and  where  they  were  known  by  everybody,  and  were  greeted 
on  going  in,  and  greeted  on  coming  out  ?  By  way  of  experiment  they 
set  out,  of  a  Sunday  morning,  for  church,  not  knowing  where  they  will 
go.  They  follow  the  bulk  of  the  people,  and  go  into  a  stately  edifice, 
where  there  is  worship,  but  no  fellowship.  The  next  Sunday,  they  go 
into  another  church,  where  there  is  instruction,  but  no  atmosphere  of 
love.  The  next  Sunday,  they  go  into  still  another  church,  where  thei'e 
is  an  abundant  provision  of  seats,  but  a  slender  occupancy  of  them,  and 
where  all  is  cold  and  empty.  So  they  try  one  Sunday  here,  and  another 
there.  And  this  wandering  about  on  Sundays  from  church  to  church 
is  about  as  poor  a  business  as  a  man  can  go  into,  so  far  as  profit  is 
concerned.  A  blacksmith  might  as  well  take  his  ii'on  to  one  forge,  and 
let  it  heat  five  minutes,  and  then  take  it  to  another  forge,  and  let  it 
heat  about  the  same  length  of  time,  and  then  take  it  to  another.  He 
would  be  as  likely  to  get  his  iron  hot  as  a  man  would,  by  going  on 
such  voyages  of  curiosity,  to  raise  his  spiritual  fervor,  or  to  begin  a  life 
that  would  have  continuity  in  religious  impulse  and  religious  knowl- 
edge. Bat  the  necessity  of  thek  circumstances  drives  them  to  this. 
And  they  wander  up  and  down.  Now  they  go  to  the  Roman  Church, 
to  see  the  unaccustomed  "  pomp,"  as  it  is  called — the  gewgaw  cere- 
mony. Now  they  go  to  the  ritualistic  church.  The  paj)ers  are  full  of 
comments  concerning  that  church,  and  they  go  to  see.  Now  they  go 
to  the  Presbyterian  Church,  to  which  they  are  drawn,  it  may  be,  by  a 
thousand  joyful  associations  ;  but  the  man  in  the  pulpit  is  strange,  and 
the  people  are  strange.  And  the  "respectable"  habits  of  our  "re- 
ispectable"  churches  do  not  win  the  young,  unfortunately.     A  man 


MERCHANT-CLERKS  OF  OUR  CITIES.  291 

may  go  into  many  and  many  a  church  door  and  stand  wistful,  and  no 
man  will  care  for  his  soul.  No  devout  sexton  is  there  to  say  to  him, 
"  Sit  here  or  stand  there  till  the  pew-holders  are  served,  and  then  you 
shall  be  provided  for."  No  hospitable  mother,  no  wistful  father,  who 
has  a  son  in  some  distant  city,  looks  out,  and,  oeeing  the  young  wait- 
ing, calls  them  in,  and,  with  paternal  benediction  and  kindness,  cher- 
ishes them,  and  makes  them  feel  at  home.  In  many  a  church  one 
might  walk  up  and  down  all  the  aisles  on  the  ground  floor,  and  make 
the  circuit  of  the  gallery,  and  go  forth,  and  excite  no  other  thought  or 
feeling  than  the  wish  that  such  noisy  young  men  would  stay  at  home. 
Our  cities  are  good  for  many  things,  and  in  many  respects  they  answer 
the  purpose  for  which  they  were  established ;  but  unquestionably  there 
is  a  want  of  warmth  in  them.  Thei'e  is  a  want  of  welcome  for  the 
stranger.  There  is  a  want  of  fellowship  to  make  them  feel  at  home 
when  they  come  hither. 

So  our  young  man,  sleeping  on  the  counter  in  the  corner  of  his 
store,  or  at  his  boarding  house,  is  cut  off  from  healthful  social  inter- 
course, and  from  wholesome  religious  associations.  All  is  very  well  at 
his  boarding  house,  it  may  be.  He  is  fed.  Why  yes ;  and  so  are  his 
father's  pigs.  So  are  his  father's  calves.  So  is  the  stalled  ox.  So  is 
the  horse  that  cracks  his  corn  and  chews  his  oats.  At  boarding  houses 
young  men  are  fed ;  but,  too  often,  they  are  fed  as  though  they  were 
but  so  many  craunching  animals.  And  after  their  meals  they  go  to 
their  rooms,  and  are  alone ;  and  there  is  nobody  to  care  for  them. 

Oh !  the  desolateness  of  a  man's  heart  in  a  great  city,  where  he 
knows  nobody,  and  nobody  knows  him !  I  know  what  it  is.  Old  as  I 
was,  settled  as  my  principles  and  character  were,  the  oppression  of  Lon- 
don, when  I  walked  the  streets  a  stranger  there,  and  the  oppression  of 
the  continental  cities,  was  almost  more  than  I  could  bear.  And  it  did 
me  good ;  for  I  said  to  myself,  "  I  never  will  be  so  careless  again,  when 
I  return  home,  in  regard  to  strangers  in  a  strange  place,  now  that  I 
know  what  is  in  their  hearts." 

I  do  not  withhold  blame  from  the  young,  but  I  pity  them,  where 
they  are  thrown  out  of  the  warm  bosom  of  home  into  the  cold  and 
cheerless  life  of  a  city ;  where  there  are  none  to  care  for  them  ;  none  to 
associate  with  them ;  none  to  quicken  their  virtue ;  none  to  fill  them, 
every  day,  with  new  aspiration ;  none  to  draw  them,  by  genial  influ- 
ences, to  refinement  and  love. 

Very  soon,  under  such  circumstances,  young  men  are  brought  to 
the  question  of  pleasureable  indulgence.  This  is,  as  I  have  said,  at  the 
transition  period  of  their  life,  which  is  always  a  dangerous  period,  but 
which,  uiulur  the  artificial  conditions  of  such  a  life,  is  peculiarly  trying. 

Multitudes  have  virtues,  or  principles,  or  habits,  which  shield  them. 


292  MERCHANT-CLERKS  OF  OUR  CITIES. 

Some  are  so  fortunate  as  to  live  with  i-elations,  or  to  fall  into  pleasant 
families.  And  leL'  me  say  that  sometimes  there  are  mothers  in  board- 
ing houses.  I  mean  that  sometimes  there  are  persons  in  them  who 
take  care  of  those  who  belong  to  their  households.  I  have  known  wid- 
owed women  (to  their  honor  be  it  spoken)  who  were  as  much  concerned 
for  the  young  men  under  their  care  as  if  they  had  been  their  own  sons, 
and  who  watched  over  them,  and  counseled  them,  and  sought  to  take 
the  place  of  a  mother  to  them.  They  are  worthy  of  all  praise.  And 
I  am  far  from  wishing  indiscriminately  to  blame  those  who  keep  board- 
ing houses.  I  desu-e,  rather,  to  recognize  and  appreciate  the  services  of 
those  among  them  who  render  valuable  service  to  virtue  and  manhood. 
And  I  do  not  doubt  that  in  the  last  day,  among  the  band  of  faithful 
mothers  and  friends,  there  will  not  be  a  few  of  those  who  stand  in  the 
bumble  relation  of  mere  providers  and  mere  economists  in  social  life, 
whose  heads  will  blossom  with  the  glow  of  love  and  kindness. 

A  yet  larger  number  than  are  shielded  by  homes  or  some  kindly 
fortune  in  the  city,  are  left  to  themselves ;  and  all  the  solicitations  of 
pleasure  come  upon  them.  All  the  wiles,  all  the  seductions,  and  all  the 
enervating  influences  of  social  life  befall  them. 

See,  now,  how  all  these  things  bear  on  the  di-inking  habits  of  the 
young — particularly  upon  young  men  in  commercial  life.  Desolateness 
and  loneliness  tend  to  drinking.  Men  who  have  nothing  to  do,  and 
nowhere  to  go,  always,  for  some  strange  reason,  want  to  diink.  And 
the  tendency  of  drinking  is  to  blunt  a  man's  nerves ;  to  subdue  the  ex- 
quisite sensibility  of  his  nature ;  to  take  off  the  edge  of  his  spirits. 
There  may  be  a  raising  of  the  animal  tone  of  his  system ;  but  the  effect 
is  to  make  him  less  sensitive  to  cu-cumstances  that  otherwise  would 
acuminate  him.  They  that  are  alone,  and  feel  their  loneliness,  are 
tempted  to  resort  to  drinking.  And  all  the  more  because  drinking-sa- 
loons  are  as  wise  as  churches  ought  to  be.  They  make  no  provision 
for  the  higher  nature,  to  be  sure ;  but  they  provide  for  the  lower  nature 
with  a  wisdom  which  is  worthy  of  a  better  cause.  These  places  are 
easy  of  access,  and  brilliantly  lighted.  The  instruments  of  destruction 
which  they  contain  are  hidden  by  the  judicious  screen  at  the  window 
and  at  the  door.  There  is  chamber  within  chamber,  into  which  the 
unwary  victim  is  drawn,  step  by  step.  There  are  all  manner  of  famil- 
iar decorations  which  take  the  gauntness  and  barrenness  from  the  eye. 
And  there  is  plenty  of  company.  The  lower  nature  is  thus  provided 
for  with  great  skill.  And  here  young  men  who  find  themselves  in 
their  bedroom  or  store  alone  and  lonesome,  over-spent  and  fainting, 
cannot  resist  the  temptation,  notwithstanding  the  protest  of  conscience, 
which  says,  "What  would  your  mother  say,  and  what  would  your 
pious  sister  say,  if  they  knew  where  you  are  to  night  ?  "    They  turn  off 


MERCnAKT-CLERKS  OF  OUR  CITIES.  293 

these  warnings  of  the  monitor  within,  by  saying,  "Hang  it!  I  don't 
care.  I  am  having  a  good  time ;  and  it  is  the  first  good  time  I  have 
ever  had  since  I  came  to  New  York.  It  is  ever  so  much  better  than 
last  Sunday  night.  Then  I  went  to  church,  and  almost  froze  to  death. 
To-night  I  went  to  a  cheerful  drinking-saloon,  and  thawed  out ;  and  I 
feel  a  great  deal  more  a  man ;  and  I  do  not  believe  that  such  places 
are  as  bad  as  folks  say  they  are."  There  is  in  lonesomeness  great  temp- 
tation to  drink.  There  is  in  solitariness  great  temptation  to  seek  so- 
ciety in  dangerous  places.  And  the  remedy  for  lonesomeness  and  iso- 
lation is  not  had  company,  but  good  company.  If  a  man  has  a  purpose 
to  break  out,  and  break  through,  and  find  some  heart  that  shall  warm 
his,  and  some  society  that  shall  beguile  his  leisure,  he  can  find  it ;  and 
they  who  are  careless  and  heedless  take  the  first  that  comes,  whether 
it  be  good  or  bad. 

One  is  tempted,  also,  to  be  ashamed  of  morality  and  of  rigid  tempe- 
rance, at  this  period  of  life,  and  especially  under  the  circumstances  by 
which  he  finds  himself  surrounded.  For  there  are  not  a  few  who  make 
haste  to  show  him  that  he  has  become  a  man,  and  is  to  put  away  child- 
ish things ;  that  he  must  not  be  over-scrupulous  about  truth  and  hon- 
esty J  that  he  must  not  have  too  rigid  notions  of  honor ;  that  there  are 
certain  permissions  and  self-indulgences  which  belong  to  city  life.  He 
finds  himself  surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  which  rather  chills  his  he- 
roic notions  of  morality.  He  discovers  that  self-restraint  and  tempe- 
rance are  not  fashionable.  He  is  very  soon  made  to  feel  that  he  must 
stand  upon  his  guaj'd  if  he  would  maintain  his  ground.  He  sees  that 
those  who  hold  views  such  as  he  has  been  accustomed  to  hold  are  con- 
sidered as  fanatical,  straight-laced.  He  sees  that  if  the  standard  of 
morals  to  which  they  have  adhered  is  correct,  the  example  which  he 
sees  around  about  him  is  pernicious  and  relaxing  to  the  integrity  of  his 
nature.     And  yet,  he  is  liable  to  be  carried  away  by  that  example. 

We  are  creatures  of  example,  not  only  in  the  sense  that  we  are  imi- 
tators, but  in  the  sense  that  the  tendency  to  imitate  is  the  result  of  a 
latent  feeling  of  aspiration  or  shame.  It  shows  itself  as  much,  and 
frequently  more,  in  lower  ways  of  life  than  in  higher. 

A  young  man  in  business  in  New  York  has  risen  until  he  has  a  sal  • 
ery  of  a  thousand,  or  fifteen  hundred,  or  two  thousand  dollars,  and  ho 
can  take  his  dinner  at  Delmonico's,  or  some  other  first-class  restaurant; 
and  he  feels  his  self-respect  rising  when  he  finds  that  his  employer  dines 
there  too.  And  it  warms  his  heart  to  have  this  great  man  speak  to  him, 
and  say,  "How  is  it  with  you,  my  dear  fellow?"  Nothing  does  him  so 
much  good  as  the  touch  of  that  man's  hand.  But  his  employer  drinks 
wine,  and  he  does  not. 

I  once  saw  at  table  two  members  of  a  great  firm,  both  of  whom 


294  MERCUANT-CLERES  OF  OUR  CITIES. 

■were  Christian  men,  nominally,  and  I  hope  really,  notwithstanding  ap- 
pearances ;  and  with  them  sat  two  clergymen — one  of  the  Episcopal 
Church,  and  one  of  the  Methodist  Church — one  then,  though  not  now, 
the  editor  of  a  jjrominent  religious  church  journal,  and  the  other  a 
preacher  in  full  orders.  And  I  counted  five  kinds  of  wine  that  they 
had  before  them.  Here  were  four  Christian  gentlemen — two  clergy- 
men and  two  membersof  an  eminent  firm,  enjoying  a  most  admirable 
dinner,  which  was  well  washed  down,  I  assure  you !  And  there  were 
young  men  that  sat  looking  at  them  and  envying  them.  Young  men 
envy  those  who  drink  wine,  though  they  think  they  do  not.  It  is  pro- 
bable that  not  one  young  man  in  a  hundred  likes  the  taste  of  wine.  I 
think  it  is  an  aficctation  for  men  to  say  that  it  tastes  good.  They  tell 
you  it  does,  but  the  face  that  they  make  when  they  drink  it  gives  the 
lie  to  their  profession.  Have  you  never  seen  men  drink  brandy,  scowl- 
ing as  they  drank  it,  not  because  they  relished  it,  but  because  others 
drank  ? 

This  young  man,  eating  his  plain,  frugal  dinner,  has  human  nature 
in  him ;  and  as  he  dines  on  his  mutton-chop,  with  his  tumbler  of  water, 
and  sees  this  successful  business  man  and  that  rich  hardware  merchant, 
this  dry-goods  prince  and  that  eminent  book  publisher,  this  renowned 
broker  and  that  great  railroad  manager,  have  their  difierent  kinds  of 
wine,  and  perhaps  something  stronger  to  prevent  the  wine  from  sour- 
ing on  their  stomach,  it  has  its  influence  on  him — and  all  the  more 
when  he  finds  that  his  companions,  one,  two  and  three,  who  are  above 
him,  are  following  the  example  of  these  men,  and  say,  "  Of  course,  a 
man  ought  to  have  self-control,  and  not  be  a  guzzler,  a  wine-bibber ; 
but  a  man  who  pledges  himself  not  to  drink  has  no  credit  for  not  djink- 
ing.  A  man  who  drinks  moderately  is  not  intemperate.  Besides  we 
ought  to  use  the  things  which  God  has  given  us." 

If  you  will  show  me  one  di-op  of  wine  which  God  made,  I  will 
drink  it,  and  will  recommend  you  to  drink  it.  Wine,  as  God  makes  it, 
is  in  the  form  of  grapes,  and  is  harmless.  But  the  young  man  says  to 
himself,  "  This  wine  which  these  men  take  must  be  a  good  thing ;  and 
why  should  not  I  take  it?"  And  he  makes  up  his  mind  that  to-mor- 
row he  will  order  a  pint  of  claret.  And,  sure  enough,  when  he  takes 
his  dinner  the  next  day,  against  his  habits  and  his  taste,  he  orders  his 
pint  of  claret.  He  never  drank  a  pint  of  claret  in  his  life  before,  and 
he  is  ashamed  to  put  in  the  cork  and  have  a  part  of  it  kept  for  his  next 
meal ;  and  he  does  not  like  to  pay  for  it  and  not  drink  it.  So,  on  the 
principle  that  a  man  is  bound  to  eat  everything  that  is  on  his  plate,  he 
takes  it  all  down.  And  the  following  day  he  orders  another  pint  of 
claret.  And  at  last  he  gets  so  that  he  can  drink  a  pint  of  claret  with- 
out any  great  difiiculty ;  and  then  he  looks  around  the  restaurant  with 


MERCnANT-CLERKS  OF  OUR  CITIES.  295 

an  air  of  triumph,  feeling  that  he  has  taken  a  step  that  is  conformable 
to  his  condition  and  circumstances  and  means.  At  fii'st,  when  he  drank 
his  claret,  he  felt  a  strange  swimming  in  his  head.  Yon  that  are  older 
may  not  remember,  but  a  pint  of  claret  is  a  good  deal  for  a  man  wiio  is 
unaccustomed  to  drinking  wine  to  take  without  feeling  dizzy.  And  he 
went  back  to  his  store — what  t  a  drunkard  ?  Oh  no.  A  ruined  man  ? 
No;  not  that,  at  all.  lie  simply  had  taken  the  step  that  separated  him 
from  a  clearly  defined,  sure  position,  to  take  his  chances  in  the  realm 
of  uncertainty.  He  had  gone  off  from  a  firm  rock  on  to  shifting  sand. 
And  very  likely  he  may  esca2)e,  and  become  a  sound  man — particularly 
if  he  is  not  genkil ;  particularly  if  he  is  selfish  ;  particularly  if  he  has  a 
temperament  that  is  a  little  cold  and  phlegmatic.  Cold  temperaments 
are  less  disorganized  and  less  injured  by  drinking  than  mercurial,  gen- 
ial, sympathetic  temj^eraments.  He  that  is  most  susceptible  to  the  in- 
fluences about  him,  and  that  is  quickest  to  form  attachments,  and  that 
has  the  most  elements  in  him  which  make  other  men  love  him — he  it 
is  that  is  most  readily  destroyed  by  drink.  Intoxicating  liquors  are 
most  apt  to  take  hold  of  those  who  are  most  precious,  and  to  let  alone 
those  who  are  least  so.  It  assails  those  who  are  warmest  and  most 
loveable  in  their  natures,  and  passes  by  those  that  are  cold  and  heait- 
less.  It  kills  those  that  we  desire  to  have  live,  and  lets  live  those  that 
we  wish  would  die.  Those  that  we  can  afford  to  spare  do  not  go,  and 
those  that  we  cannot  afford  to  spare  go  quick. 

Then,  there  are  other  influences  Avhich  conspire  to  make  young 
men  drink.  There  is  the  fascination  which  literature  has  thrown  around 
drink.  It  has  come  to  be  the  impression  that  drinking  is  the  almost 
indispensable  means  of  a  certain  kind  of  hilarity  and  social  enjoyment. 
It  is  supposed  that  men  who  drink  are  always  social ;  but  it  is  not  so. 

I  was  very  much  struck  with  the  drinking  habits  of  Scotland.  I 
came,  one  night,  at  about  eleven  o'clock,  to  a  hotel  in  the  town  of  Ayr. 
There  are  no  parlors  in  the  hotels  there,  and  the  guests  sit  in  what  is 
called  the  commercial  room,  which  is  the  same  as  the  dining  room  in 
this  country.  In  that  room  sat  twelve  or  fifteen  men.  I  saw  a  waiter 
bring  in  what  was  ap^iarently  the  customary  service  of  the  evening.  I 
do  not  mean  the  Bible  and  a  hymn  book ;  but  a  decanter  of  whiskey, 
and  a  pitcher  of  hot  water,  and  what  I  should  say  was  a  cream-ladle, 
and  some  glasses.  Several  gentlemen,  I  noticed,  had  cut  up  aJOondon 
limes  and  divided  it  between  them,  as  though  it  were  a  loaf  of  breatl — 
for  papers  are  so  dear  there  that  a  man  cannot  afford  a  whole  one,  as 
he  can  here  in  America,  where  papei*s  are  cheap.  They  poured  the 
whiskey  and  the  hot  water  into  a  big  tumbler,  and  mi.xed  them,  and 
then  took  the  ladle  and  dipped  the  mixture  into  glasses.  And  the  mea 
each  took  a  glass  and  commenced  sipping.     But  not  a  man  said  a  word. 


296  MERCHANT-CLERKS  OF  OUR  CITIES. 

Nobody  looked  at  me.  There  was  perfect  stillness.  They  sat  sipping, 
sipping,  sipping,  till  they  had  drank  all  then-  whiskey  and  hot  water. 
Then  each  one  got  up  and  went  to  bed  by  himself.  I  saw  that  men 
could  drink  and  not  be  social.  Nevertheless,  we  all  know  that  when 
men  set  out  to  be  social,  drink  is  one  of  the  things  which  they  mean  to 
use  as  fuel  to  kindle  the  spirits  and  get  up  hilarity  upon. 

And  then,  there  are  drinking  songs,  intemperance  songs,  discoursing 
of  the  delights  of  wine.  There  are  two  or  three  temperance  songs ; 
but  my  impression  is  that  we  had  better  let  these  alone.  There  have 
been  various  attempts  to  put  the  praises  of  cold  water  into  literatm-e ; 
but  cold  water  is  ten  thousand  times  better  and  more  sparkling  than 
any  poetry  that  was  ever  written  concerning  it.  Literature,  however, 
is  fuU  of  drinking  songs,  with  wit  and  mirth  and  conviviality  in  them. 
There  have  been  four  thousand  years  of  invention  in  this  kind  of  lite- 
rature. These  songs  fascinate  the  imagination  of  young  men.  I  never 
read  of  the  old  falernian  wines  that  I  do  not  wish  that  I  could  see  them. 
I  never  read  of  the  rare  wines  of  Italy,  or  any  other  country,  that  I  am 
not  conscious  of  a  sort  of  longing  to  know  more  about  them.  They  do 
not  touch  our  pragmatical  men  perhaps ;  but  there  is  not  a  man  who  is 
genial  and  imaginative,  who  has  a  smack  of  sentiment,  and  who  has  a 
literary  turn,  that  these  things  do  not  affect  him,  and  tend  to  bring 
his  higher  feelings  to  the  side  of  drinking.  And  they  act  a  great  deal 
more  upon  the  young  than  we  are  accustomed  to  estimate. 

Then  social  customs  come  in.  When  young  men  that  are  rising  in 
the  world  are  brought  along  about  so  far,  they  are  invited  to  the  houses 
of  their  employers,  and  to  the  houses  of  their  companions'  employers. 
And  far  be  it  from  me  to  throw  contempt  upon  this.  If  there  is  a  ne- 
cessity that  respectable  parents  should  fish  for  their  daughters,  there  is 
an  apparent  propriety  in  then*  inviting  to  their  houses  proper  company 
for  those  daughters,  that  they  may  be  enabled  to  make  the  most  judi- 
cious selections  in  their  behalf.  Therefore,  when  the  rich  banker  is  to 
give  his  monthly  or  quarterly  convivial  entertainment,  he  invites  (with- 
out any  ulterior  design,  but  with  a  religious  trust  in  Providence !)  his 
promising  confidential  clerk.  And  one  and  another  of  the  good-looking, 
and  well-organized,  and  more  fortunate,  and  more  prosperous  of  the 
young  men  that  have  come  under  his  notice,  are  invited.  And  they 
have  no  pride  that  resents  it.  On  the  contrary,  they  cannot  represf 
the  pleasure  which  they  feel.  It  runs  out  of  their  eyes  and  overflows 
their  face — especially  when  they  are  telling  you  that  they  do  not  care 
anything  about  it.  They  are  invited  there,  and  it  does  flatter  them. 
They  have  no  words  that  are  adequate  to  express  the  delight  which 
it  affords  them. 

And  then  comes  the  stress  of  temptation ;  for  they  have  not  the 


MERCnANT-CLERES  OF  OUR  CITIES.  297 

what  to  wear.  Alas  !  for  that  manhood  which  is  more  concerned  about 
external  appearance  than  internal  worth  !  A  young  man  that  is  honest 
and  steady  and  self-respecting  begins  to  be  conscious  that  he  has  ia 
him  executive  power,  and  that  he  ought  not  to  be  beholden  to  any  one ; 
that  he  ought  in  his  i3ride  to  be  beholden  only  to  himself  And  re- 
member that  it  is  in  no  man's  power  to  honor  you.  You  yourself  are 
the  only  one  by  whom  you  can  be  honored.  If  you  have  the  substan- 
tial qualities  of  a  man,  you  have  no  need  that  anybody  should  make 
you  a  man.  Those  who  are  made  men  by  other  people's  invitations, 
are  rather  homunculi  than  men.  Still,  human  nature  is  human  nature, 
and  we  must  take  it  as  we  find  it. 

The  young  man  provides  himself  Avith  clothes,  such  as  he  thinks  the 
occasion  demands,  but  which  he  can  ill  afford  ;  and  on  the  appointed 
night  he  goes  to  his  employer's.  And  he  is  treated  with  more  than 
fatherly  kindness  by  the  host,  who  takes  him  by  the  hand,  and  says, 
"I  am  exceedingly  happy  to  see  you  at  my  house,  and  shall  be  happy 
to  see  you  here  at  any  time." 

lie  does  not  dare  to  set  his  young  face  against  the  habits  of  this 
man's  household  ;  he  cannot  think  of  doing  anything  which  shall  be  a 
rebuke  to  others  present ;  and  when  the  festivities  come  round,  and  the 
supper  is  served,  and  wine  is  offered  to  him,  he  dares  not  refuse,  but 
drinks,  and  drinks  again.  And  having  drank  once,  it  is  easier  for  him 
to  be  persuaded  to  drink  again.  So  he  drinks  at  other  social  festivities. 
And  before  the  year  rolls  around,  all  idea  of  restraint  has  passed  from 
his  mind.  Thus  one  barrier  after  another  is  broken  down,  until  all  bar- 
riers are  gone. 

There  are  many  who  are  not  the  recijiients  of  such  invitations ;  but 
other  influences  are  brought  to  bear  upon  them  which  produce  the  same 
result.  For  there  are  a  few  who  have  no  companionship  ;  who  are  not 
members  of  clubs ;  who  are  not  invited  to  balls  or  dinners  ;  who  do 
not  go  on  excursions  ;  who  are  not  placed  where  they  are  expected  to 
be  men  among  men,  and  do  as  others  do. 

Then  there  is  a  pernicious  practice  which  I  am  not  familiar  with, 
and  therefore  do  not  know  how  to  describe,  but  which  I  am  told  is  in- 
creasing in  New  York — the  practice  among  business  men  of  treating 
each  other  in  connection  with  their  bargain-making.  I  am  assm"ed 
that  if  the  business  men  of  Broadway  and  Wall  Street  would  simply 
set  their  faces  against  drinking,  or  asking  men  to  drink,  in  business 
hours,  it  would  be  effectually  done  away.  I  am  advised  by  parents  of 
young  business  men,  that  one  of  the  severest  ordeals  through  which 
they  are  passing  is  the  constant  solicitation  to  drink  during  tlie  houre 
of  business.  And  it  is  not  surprising  that  young  men  who  have  gone 
through  a  career  such  as  that  of  which  I  liave  been  speaking,  should 
fall  into  the  custom  of  diiukiug  at  such  times. 


298  MERCnANT-CLEliKS  OF  OUR  CITIES. 

Then  comes  the  next  step  of  attempting  to  rally  and  recuperate, 
after  excessive  labor  and  exhaustion,  by  the  power  of  drink.  When 
young  men  have  been  in  business  all  day,  and  have  been  up  all  night, 
and  have  repeated  it  twice  in  forty-eight  hours,  usually  they  feel  a 
goneness,  as  though  there  was  nothing  left  in  them  ;  and  as  theii-  duties 
remain,  as  theii"  business  has  to  be  carried  on,  as  they  must  be  in  their 
places  and  perform  their  labor  as  usual,  they  betake  themselves  to 
strong  diink,  or  to  mixtures  of  it,  to  reinvigorate  their  strength ;  and 
they  say  that  they  cannot  get  along  without  it.  I  have  only  this  to 
say :  If  a  man  will  not  sleep  nights,  and  performs  excessive  office-work 
during  the  day,  he  will  biing  his  nervous  system  to  a  point  where  it 
cannot  rally  without  stimulants.  But  the  mischief  lies  in  the  dissipa- 
tion.    The  mischief  lies  in  the  intemperance  in  the  use  of  his  hours. 

Sleep  nights !  Make  it  a  matter  of  life  and  death  with  yourself, 
that  no  twenty-four  hours  shall  go  over  your  head  without  having  its 
full  compliment  of  seven  or  eight  hours  of  fair  and  square  sleep.  There 
is  many  a  cup  that  would  stand  undrained  if  men  would  fill  themselves 
up  with  good,  honest  sleep.  If  men  would  not  do  more  than  belongs, 
in  ordinary  circumstances,  to  a  reasonable  use  of  themselves  during  the 
hours  of  business,  the  temptations  to  rally  their  flagging  powers  by 
means  of  stimulants  would  be  very  few. 

There  is  one  sjjecial  evil  of  which  I  wish  to  speak,  and  that  is  where 
men  begin  their  work  by  the  use  of  stimulants.  If  there  is  anything 
which  marks  the  ends  of  the  ^preparatory  career,  if  there  is  any  point 
at  which  you  may  say  that  a  man  is  a  drunkard,  it  is  where  he  is 
obliged  to  study  under  the  influence  of  stimulants ;  it  is  where  he  needs 
brandy  when  he  is  going  to  make  a  speech ;  it  is  where  he  wants  a 
glass  of  liquor  when  he  goes  to  his  business  in  the  morning ;  it  is 
where  he  works  on  the  steam  which  is  i-aised  by  intoxicating  drinks. 
When  a  man  has  come  to  that  point,  and  indulgence  is  regular  with 
him,  he  is  a  drunkard,  though  he  never  staggered  in  his  life.  He  is  a 
di'unkard  who  depends  on  intoxicating  diinks  for  the  means  of  rallying 
or  building  up  the  strength  which  he  needs  for  the  carrying  on  of  his 
daily  avocations.     And  there  are  multitudes  that  do  this. 

When  men  have  come  to  this  point,  some  of  them  may  be  reclaimed. 
Here  and  there  is  one  that  fortunately  may  change  his  residence  and 
his  circumstances,  and  come  into  more  wholesome  relations.  Some 
may  wake  up  to  a  consciousness  of  their  danger ;  but  I  fear  that  of 
every  ten  that  have  come  to  this  condition  eight  will  go  on  and  die  of 
drunkenness,  or  of  those  diseases  which  will  at  the  same  time  cut  short 
both  drinking  and  life. 

Now,  under  all  these  manifold  temptations  of  the  young,  ought  not 
every  young  man  who  hears  me  to  ask  himself,  if  he  has  begun  to  touch 


MEBCnANT-CLERKS  OF  OUR  CITIES.  299 

and' tamper  Avith  intoxicating  drinks,  "Am  I  safe"?"  I  know  that 
many  young  men,  when  warned  on  this  subject,  say,  "  Others  may 
have  perislied  from  an  excessive  indulgence  in  stinuilatiiig  drinks  ;  but 
then,  I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  they  were."  No  man  has  any  guarantee 
of  safety  who  has  once  taken  the  first  step  in  the  patli  of  intemperance. 
It  is  not  probable  that  any  of  the  young  men  who  have  stumbled  with 
fatal  downfall  believed  that  they  were  going  to  stumble.  The  proba- 
bility is  that  every  one  of  them  said  to  himself,  if  not  to  others,  that 
though  drinking  might  be  dangerous  for  some  men  it  was  safe  for  him. 
But  it  is  safe  for  no  one.  The  voice  of  Prudence  says,  "  Pass  by  it ; 
touch  it  not ;  taste  it  not ;  handle  it  not."  One  thing  is  certain — you 
are  not  safe  if  you  begin  the  habit  of  taking  it.  You  are  perfectly  safe 
if  you  do  not  touch  it. 

I  do  not  say  that  every  man  who  drinks  is  going  to  become  a 
drunkard.  I  do  not  say  that  the  man  wjio  takes  wine  every  day  with 
his  dinner  is  going  to  die  a  drunkard.  But  I  do  say  that,  taking  the 
young  men  in  Xew  York  as  they  go,  the  whole  mighty  swarm  of  them, 
intemperate  habits  are  fraught  with  so  many  dangers  that  we  are  per- 
fectly sure  that  there  will  be  a  decimation  of  them  from  this  cause. 
Probably  one  out  of  every  ten  (there  may  be  more  than  that,  but  I  do 
not  wish  to  exaggerate  in  my  statements)  will  be  destroyed.  It  is  un- 
questionably the  case  that  of  those  who  begin  life  with  dissipation,  a 
large  proportion  will  be  seriously  injured,  and  a  certain  number  will  be 
utterly  ruined,  while  all  are  in  great  peril. 

Xow,  there  is  no  need  of  any  such  sacrifice  of  young  men.  There 
is  no  use  of  their  placing  themselves  in  such  innninent  danger.  There 
is  a  course  that  is  free  from  peril.  There  is  no  hazard  in  a  way  of  abso- 
lute tem})erance.  He  who  does  not  touch  nor  taste  nor  handle  intoxica1>- 
ing  drinks,  certainly  will  not  die  a  drunkard.  But  he  who  does  touch, 
taste  and  handle  spirituous  liquors,  and  who  becomes  familiar  Mith  them, 
and  begins  to  make  them  work  night  and  day  for  Iiim,  though  he  may 
not  become  a  drunkard,  is  on  the  downward  road  where  drunkards 
have  traveled  in  countless  armies ;  and  there  is  reason  enough  why 
we  should  warn  him. 

The  most  ambitious  and  excitable  of  men  in  the  community  ai'e 
those  who  come  down  to  do  business  in  New  York.  It  is  not  the  slug- 
gai'd  or  the  dullard  of  the  family  that  is  sent  out  to  seek  his  fortune. 
It  is  the  young  man  who  shows  himself,  in  his  native  village,  a  little 
quicker  and  a  little  more  sagacious  than  his  companions,  and  who  be- 
gins to  feel  that  he  wants  a  larger  sphere  than  that  of  the  village  store 
in  which  to  exercise  his  powers.  They  are  the  picked  young  men  that 
come  to  New  York.     They  are  the  most  promising  young  men. 

Therefore  the  loss  of  these  young  men  is  more  or  less  a  loss  to  the 


800  MEncnANT-CLERKS  OF  OUR  CITIES. 

country.  There  could  be  nothing  more  important  to  the  welfare  of 
the  country  than  a  statistical  tabulation  of  the  young  men  who  have 
come  to  the  city  during  the  last  ten  years,  and  have  been  employed  in 
stores  and  shops  and  offices,  giving  a  history  of  their  career,  and  espe- 
cially i-ecording  the  prodigious  number  of  those  who  have  been  destroyed 
by  dissipation.  It  would  be  a  sermon  of  warning  that  would  save  mul- 
titudes of  young  men. 

But  this  work  of  destruction  is  going  on  silently.  Many  young 
men,  when  they  come  into  the  poison  air  of  these  cities,  come  to  die. 
They  are  struck  with  death  almost  as  soon  as  they  breathe  it. 

Many  a  young  man  finds  his  way  to  the  house  of  the  strange  wo- 
man, which  is  way  of  death,  and  a  way  from  which  few  if  any  return. 
One  man  after  another  fails  in  health,  and  goes  into  the  country,  where 
he  can  be  under  cheerful  and  invigorating  influences,  and  he  grows  fee- 
bler and  feebler,  and  finally  dies  in  some  remote  hamlet.  Few  know 
the  nature  of  his  disease ;  buf  the  physician's  prescriptions  show  what 
it  was.  "  Stabbed  dead  by  the  deceptive,  assassinating  hand  of  pleas- 
ure in  the  city  of  New  York,"  should  be  put  on  his  tombstone.  "Drunk- 
enness slew  him,"  should  be  the  record. 

Thousands,  every  year,  are  perishing.  You  know  them.  Where 
is  the  young  man  that  was  in  the  store  next  to  yours  ?  Where  is  tho 
young  man  that  was  turned  out  of  your  store  ?  What  has  become  of 
the  young  men  that  you  have  known  during  the  last  five  or  ten  years 
in  business  ?  Call  them  to  mind.  How  many  have  failed  in  health  ? 
How  many  have  died  from  diseases  contracted  in  the  city  ?  How  many 
have  found  it  prudent  to  go  to  sea  *?  Ask  yourself  the  reason  of  such 
a  fearful  decimation  of  the  young  men  of  your  acquaintance.  I  tell 
you,  that  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  dishonesty  and  intemperance  and  il- 
licit pleasure  have  destroyed  them.  They  have  been  debauched  and 
ruined  by  permissable  indulgences.  And  yet,  there  is  not  a  human  life 
that  we  can  aiford  to  lose.  We  cannot  afford  to  lose  the  life  of  any 
young  man  on  this  continent. 

If  the  Capitol  had  taken  fire  and  burned  down,  the  whole  nation 
would  feel  that  it  was  a  great  loss.  If  the  Astor  Library  should  take 
fire,  and  all  the  books  should  be  burned,  it  would  be  considered  a  pub- 
lic calamity.  If  the  Louvre  in  Paris,  containing  all  those  rich  speci- 
mens, which  represent  the  various  schools  of  art  there,  all  those  mag- 
nificent works  of  the  best  masters  of  ancient  and  modern  time,  were  to 
perish,  the  whole  world  would  feel  that  it  was  a  most  unfortunate  occur- 
rence. But  I  tell  you,  there  is  more  to  be  deplored  in  the  perishing  of 
one  single  soul  than  in  the  perishing  of  all  the  pictures,  and  all  the  books, 
and  all  the  buildings  on  the  globe.  A  building  you  can  rebuild,  but  a 
man  that  is  lost  you  cannot  restore.    Being  once  lost,  he  is  lost  forever. 


MEnCnANT-CLERES  OF  OUR  CITIES.  301 

While,  llien,  I  give  this  solemn  charge  to  all  those  who  are  directly 
or  indirectiy  under  my  care,  I  also  urge  you  who  are  yourselves  con 
cerned  in  business,  to  take  care  of  the  young  men  within  your  roach.  I 
do  not  ask  you  to  put  over  them  a  rigid  censorship ;  I  do  not  ask  you 
to  become  spies ;  but  I  do  say  that  a  common  view  even  of  Christianity 
should  make  us  more  solicitous  for  the  young  men  that  come  down  to 
New  York,  aiid  that  are  in  our  business  houses,  than  we  are  accustomed 
to  be.  You  may  say,  "I  cannot  be  resj^onsible  for  the  hundred,  or  fifty, 
or  twenty  young  clerks  in  my  house."  I  do  not  put  it  on  tliat  ground.  I 
only  say.  You  have  a  hundred,  fifty,  twenty,  ten,  or  five  young  men  in  your 
employ,  Avho  once  lay  in  their  mothers'  arms,  as  you  once  lay  in  the 
arms  of  your  mother ;  they  were  baptized  in  the  sanctuary,  as  you 
were ;  they  are  beloved ;  they  are  the  centre  of  pride  and  ambition ; 
they  have  in  them  hope  for  the  future  ;  and  God  puts  them,  like  a  lit- 
tle congregation,  under  your  charge;  and  you  are  then*  chief;  and  they 
look  up  to  you.  And  I  do  say  that  you  cannot  answer  at  the  bar  of 
God  who  have  the  care  of  young  men,  if  you  have  no  sympathy  for 
them,  and  never  ask  what  are  their  habits,  and  never  seek  to  ameliorate 
their  condition,  by  diminishing  their  temptations,  and  directing  their 
tendencies  to  virtue  and  to  piety.  We  cannot  wash  our  hands  of  this 
responsibility.  And  though  eveiy  young  man  should  take  care  of  him- 
self, yet  every  Christian  and  every  citizen  should  take  care  of  every 
young  man. 

One  of  the  most  touching  incidents  that  ever  came  under  my  notice 
was  one  that  occurred  here  in  Brooklyn  during  the  war.  I  was  called 
to  visit  a  young  man  who  was  sick.  He  had  been  in  the  army,  and 
had  been  sent  Tlorth  to  a  hospital ;  but  he  had  been  taken  into  one  of 
our  respectable  and  well-to-do  families.  They  desii'cd  me  to  go  and 
pray  with  him  and  console  him  ;  and  I  did.  He  died  in  their  house, 
and  was  buried  from  it.  He  was,  as  I  learned,  no  relation  of  theirs. 
"How  came  you,"  I  asked  them,  "to  be  interested  in  him?"  "We 
found  him,"  th*y  replied,  "  in  a  hospital  in  Brooklyn."  What  led  you 
to  take  him  to  your  house  ?  "  Well,"  said  the  mother,  "  our  only  boy 
went  into  tlie  war  in  Missouri,  and  was  wounded  ;  and  some  Chris- 
tian family  in  St.  Louis  took  liini  home  with  them,  and  cared  for  him, 
and  he  died  in  then*  house ;  and  when  I  went  into  the  hospital,  this 
young  man  looked  like  my  boy,  and  I  remembered  what  they  had  done 
for  my  boy,  and  I  took  him,  and  I  brought  him  to  my  house,  and  have 
taken  care  of  him."  She  did  it  because  others  had  taken  care  of  her 
boy  in  a  distant  city. 

Ah  1  are  there  any  of  you  whose  children  have  been  struck  by  the 
destroyer?  and  will  not  you  rescue  other  men's  children  when  you  think 
of  the  anguish  of  your  own  soul  ?     Have  you  had  sons  that  have  gone 


S02  MERCnANT-CLERKS  OF  OUR  CITIES: 

out  into  the  world,  and  that  you  have  fullowcd  with  unutterable  long- 
ings and  yearnings  ?  and  will  you  forget  that  there  is  a  fother's  and  a 
mother's  heart  that  longs  and  yearns  for  every  young  man  in  your 
employ  ? 

Is  there  anything  that  God  will  so  thank  you  for  as  saving  his  little 
ones  ?  Is  there  anything  in  this  world  that  mil  make  it  so  terrible  to 
meet  the  eye  of  your  Judge,  as,  rising,  to  see  those  who  were  under 
your  charge,  and  who  perished  through  your  neglect,  and  who  shall  be 
witnesses  of  your  unfaithfulness  in  the  day  of  judgment  ? 

I  charge  you,  citizens  of  New  York  and  Brooklyn,  take  care  of  the 

young.     Shield  them  from  those  temptations  which  are  mightier  than 

their  inexperience.     And  I  say  to  every  young  man,  Listen  to  the  word 

of  God  : 

"  Now,  my  son,  the  Lord  be  with  thee;  and  prosper  thee  ;  and  prosper 
thon,  and  Iniild  the  house  of  the  Lord  thy  God,  as  he  hath  said  of  thee. 
Only  the  Lord  give  to  thee  wisdom  and  understanding." 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

"We  desire  to  return  our  thanks  to  thee,  our  Heavenly  Father,  for  the 
mercies  of  this  day — for  its  rest ;  for  its  seclusion;  for  its  sanctuary;  for 
the  light,  the  knowledge,  and  the  joy  which  have  brightened  it.  We  reioice 
in  the  communion  of  the  skints,  and  in  a  holy  fellowship  one  with  another. 
And  while  our  lives  mingle  together  in  earthly  joys,  we  rejoice  that  there 
are  higher  joys  aspiring,  pointing  heavenward;  and  that  we  are  joined  not 
alone  in  toil,  and  care,  and  earthly  fellowship,  but  in  faith,  and  hope,  and 
the  sure  joy  and  fruition  of  thy  spiritual  kingdom. 

Grant  unto  us,  this  evening,  that  we  may  draw  near  to  thee  with  appre- 
hension, with  clear  discernment,  and  with  hearts  of  gratitude,  to  confess  our 
sins.  May  we  not  be  unwilling  to  make  mention  of  thy  goodness.  May  we 
feel  ourselves  moved  to  rejoice,  and  to  seek  thy  presence,  and  to  make 
known  all  our  wants  for  the  future,  not  as  though  thou  wert  ignorant,  but 
because  thou  hast  made  it  pleasant  to  plead  with  thee.  Grant  that  we  may 
have  a  spirit  of  prayer,  and  a  spirit  of  holy  confidence.  May  we  trust  in 
our  God.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  buoy  us  up  by  this  trust,  so  that  we 
may  go  through  the  alloted  experiences  of  life,  able  to  baffle  and  overthrow 
our  adversaries  ;  able  to  resist  and  overcome  temptations  ;  able  to  discern 
and  avoid  all  snares  that  are  set  for  our  feet ;  able  to  do  battle  valiantly  for 
the  Lord  our  God. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  all 
that  are  in  thy  presence,  according  to  all  their  varied  circumstances.  Their 
inward  and  outward  wants  are  before  thee,  most  merciful  and  must  gracious 
God.  Forgive  unto  every  one  his  transgressions.  Help  each  one  to  restore 
his  soul,  and  to  come  back  from  the  things  in  which  he  has  wandered  to 
the  straight  and  narrow  path.  Grant  unto  every  one  that  strength  by  which 
he  may  be  able  to  bear  the  duty  of  each  day.  May  none  yield  themselves 
to  fear,  or  to  discouragement,  or  to  despair.    May  all  be  strong  in  the  Lord. 


MERCHANT-CLERKS  OF  OUR  CITIES.  303 

Jlay  the  sense  of  thy  gracious  providence  surround  each  one.  "jray  all 
each  day  feel  that  there  are  others  thinking  of  them  besides  themselves. 
May  they  know  thatthereisaguiding  Hand  ;  thatuhen  darkness  comes,  still 
■yvitliiu  tiiut  darkness  is  thy  love  and  tliy  provident  care.  And  we  beseech 
of  tiiee  that  sorrows,  and  chastisements,  and  crosses,  and  burdens,  may  be 
to  every  one  of  us  messengers  of  tlie  Lord. 

And  we  pray  tiiat  tiiou  wilt  grant  tliat  thy  servants  may  be  able  to  dis- 
charge their  duties  faitlifidly,  bear  tlie  burden  and  heat  of  the  day,  and  be 
good  soldiers  equipped  for  the  service  of  their  Lord  and  blaster.  And  may 
we  not  be  slotiilul  nor  sleep.  ]\[ay  we  be  watchful,  waiting  for  the  coming 
of  the  Lord,  knowing  not  in  what  hour  he  may  come.  ]\biy  we  have  our 
loins  girt  about,  and  our  lamps  always  trimmed  and  burning  ;  for  it  will 
not  be  long  for  many  of  us.  We  are  all  coming  near  to  the  hour  of  our  de- 
parture.    One  and  another  go,  and  we  are  made  to  see  how  uncertain  life  is. 

O  Lord  our  God!  grant  that  we  may  be  prepared  in  life,  by  the  duties 
of  it,  so  that  when  death  shall  come  to  us,  it  may  not  bo  unwelcome,  nor 
even  a  surprise,  but  a  joy  and  a  gladness. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon 
all  classes  and  conditions  of  men.  We  pray  for  the  poor,  for  the  outcast ; 
for  the  neglected;  for  those  that  dwell  in  unillnmined  ignorance;  for  those 
for  whom  there  is  no  sanctuary  ;  for  those  who  are  trained  iu  evil,  and  whose 
surroundings  tend  toward  wickedness. 

AVe  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  remember  those  who  are  seeking  to 
carry  out  the  Gospel  into  the  highways  and  byways.  May  they  be  more 
and  more  filled  with  the  Spirit  of  the  ]\iaster ;  and  more  and  more  may  they 
see  the  labor  of  the  Lord  prospering  in  their  hand. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  remember  all  for  whom  our  prayers 
are  desired.  Succor  those  who  are  in  peril.  Draw  near  to  all  that  are  ia 
trouble.  Grant  that  the  sick  may  be  restored,  or  prepared  for  their  change. 
Grant  that  all  who  need  thee  may  feel  thee  moving  toward  them,  and  quick- 
ening them  by  thy  Spirit,  and  comforting  them  by  thy  Grace.  AV'^e  are  all 
traveling  homeward.  May  we  have  every  day  the  comfort  of  knowing  that 
we  are  one  day  nearer  to  our  rest.  And  grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  when  we 
have  fultilled  our  journey,  strangers  and  jiilgrims  as  we  are,  and  when,  we 
draw  near  to  the  celestial  city,  we  may  lind  that  we  are  known  there,  that 
we  are  waited  for,  that  our  names  are  recorded,  and  that  there  are  messen- 
gers sent  forth  to  bring  us  home. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  jiraise  of  our  Salvation,  Father,  Son,  and 
Spirit,  evermore.    Amen. 


PRAYER   AFTER   THE   SERMON. 

Our  Father,  wilt  thou  bless  us  in  the  word  spoken.  Grant  that  it  may 
be  a  warning,  an  incitement  to  rectitude,  and  a  dissuasion  from  vices  and 
temptations.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  take  care  of  the  young,  unshel- 
tered as  they  are;  swept  upon  by  so  many  storms;  so  watched  for  by  insid- 
ious and  cunning  men;  so  sought  with  blandishments  and  snares  by  wicked 
W(nnen.  Grant,  O  Lord  !  that  they  may  have  raised  up  around  about  them 
those  that  shall  be  friends  indeed  \o  them,  that  shall  hold  up  their  fainting 
faith  in  virtue,  and  shall  save  them  in  the  hour  of  temptation. 

Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  those  who  have  stepped  aside  from  the  path 
of  rectitude  may  not  be  discouraged  nor  ashamed  to  return.  I^biy  all  those 
who  have  had  the  beginnings  of  wrong  in  them,  now  arise  and  shake  oll'the 
eviL    And  with  all  hope,  aud  faith,  and  courage,  and  with  prayer  to  the 


o04  MERGHANT-CLEBKS  OF  OUR  CITIES. 

God  of  their  fiither  and  mother,  may  they  begin  over  again.  And  counting 
the  past  as  indeed  gone,  may  they  begin  life  anew.  And  may  none  be  dis- 
couraged because  the  way  baf.k  is  a  hard  way.  How  much  harder  must 
the  way  become  as  time  goes  on  !  O  Lord  !  succor  all  those  who  fain  would 
hold  last  their  integrity,  and  stand  steadfast  unto  the  end. 

And  we  pray,  O  God!  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  associations  of  young  men 
for  young  men,  and  all  those  who  are  seeking  to  shield  the  virtue  of  society, 
and  all  that  labor  for  the  reformation  of  morals.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that 
thy  kingdom  may  come,  and  that  thy  will  may  be  done,  and  the  whole 
earth  be  filled  with  thy  glory.    Which  we  ask  for  Christ's  sake.    Amen. 


XVII. 

The  Moral  Constitution  of  Man. 


THE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN. 


"For  not  the  hearers  of  the  law  are  just  before  God,  but  the  doers  of 
the  law  shall  be  justified.  For  when  the  Gentiles,  which  have  not  the  law, 
do  by  nature  the  things  contained  in  the  law,  these  having  not  the  law,  are 
a  law  unto  themselves.  Which  shew  the  work  of  the  law  written  in  their 
hearts,  their  conscience  also  bearing  witness,  and  their  thoughts  the  mean- 
while accusing,  or  else  excusing  one  another." — Roh.  u.  13-15. 


The  question  which  the  apostle  was  obliged  to  argue  in  the  open- 
ing of  this  epistle,  was  largely  the  condition  of  the  Gentile  or  the 
heathen  world.  He  argues  both  sides  of  it.  He  argues,  as  you  will 
find  in  the  first  chapter,  that  they  were  to  be  condemned  on  substan- 
tially moral  grounds  ;  and  he  also  argues  that  they  may  yet,  neverthe- 
less, be  condemned  in  much  less  measure  than  the  Jews — a  peculiarly 
offensive  turn  to  the  argument ;  because  the  Jew  held  that  he  had  a 
right  to  superiority,  to  prominence,  before  God,  on  account  of  the 
essential  relationship  of  God  to  him,  and  to  all  that  concerned  him,  no 
matter  how  he  lived.  The  fact  that  men  were  not  Jews  settled  the 
matter.  They  might  be  just,  they  might  be  virtuous,  they  might  be 
devout ;  but  they  were  not  Jews.  They  did  not  believe  in  JcAvish  creeds 
nor  worship  in  the  Jewish  circle  ;  and  that  was  enough. 

The  apostle,  therefore,  is  obliged  often  and  most  offensively,  to  go 
against  this  bitter,  this  stupid  bigotry  of  the  Jews,  which  has  not  died 
out  with  the  Jews'  authority.  And  here  he  is  arguing  that  the  Gentile 
nation  may,  after  all,  stand  better  before  God  than  the  Jews  do.  "  It 
is  not  they  that  hear  the  law  that  are  the  safest,"  he  says,  "  but  they 
that  do  the  law."  "  Ah  !"  it  is  said,  "  the  Gentiles  never  had  it,  and 
of  course  they  did  not  do  it."  "  But,"  he  says  to  his  objector, 
"  nevertheless,  if  they  do  those  things  under  the  light  of  nature  which 
the  law  commands  you  to  do  ;  if  they,  by  the  light  that  they  have, 
I'each  the  same  virtues,  the  same  moralities,  the  same  devout  tenden- 
cies, which  you  reach  through  the  law,  they  shall,  under  the  law  that 
God  has  revealed  in  the  heart,  have  some  sense  of  what  is  right  and 
what  is  wrong.  If  they  keep  that  unwritten  law  ;  if  they  serve  ac- 
cording to  the  light  which  they  have,  that  shall  suflice.     If  you,'  with 

SiMiAv  EvKMNc..  Feb.  27,  1870.  Lesson:  Psalms  CXLVIIL  Uymnb  (rijinouih  Colleo- 
tiot)  No8.  66  ,  f-«">G,  646. 


306  THE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN. 

the  law,  sin,  and  they  sin  without  it,  they  will  stand,  for  that  very 
reason,  higher  than  you  do.  And  if  you,  with  the  law,  disobey  it,  and 
they,  without  the  law,  obey  it,  they  will  stand  better  in  the  divine 
favor  than  you." 

This  question,  historically  considered,  was  local.  It  was  not  with- 
out its  interest  to  the  Jew,  and  to  eveiy  thoughtful  mind  that  was  then 
present.  But  the  apostle  settles  it  upon  a  ground  which  makes  it  uni- 
versal. It  draWs  very  deep  in  matters  of  moral  government  and  of 
character.  For,  you  will  observe  that  the  apostle  here  takes  ground 
with  the  moral  constitution  of  man  as  a  thing  of  nature  created  in 
him ;  that  man  has  in  himself,  not  as  a  full  revelation,  but  in  a  rudi- 
mentary and  organic  form,  an  interpreting  nature,  by  which  he  knows 
what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong ;  by  "which  he  accuses  or  excuses  his 
conduct,  as  he  goes  to  the  right  or  to  the  left  in  any  line.  He  declares 
the  fact,  with  authority,  that  men  receive  a  revelation,  not  for  the  sake 
of  creating  in  them  a  moral  sense,  but  simply  for  the  sake  of  guiding 
a  moral  sense  that  is  already  created.  He  declares,  substantially,  not 
that  religion  is  a  thing  superinduced  upon  the  constitution  of  man,  but 
that  it  is  the  right  unfolding  of  that  constitution.  A  revelation  is 
made  in  part  of  things  not  known  before ;  but,  for  the  most  part,  it  is 
the  expounding,  it  is  the  commentary,  which  God  makes  on  the  ele- 
ments which  were  in  man's  nature  when  he  was  created.  There  is  a 
moral  constitution  of  souls.  There  is  a  right  and  there  is  a  wrong ; 
and  aside  from  the  determination  of  them  which  we  get  from  authori- 
tative Scripture,  they  may  be  determined  by  reason  of  the  harmony 
of  the  soul's  powers,  by  the  law  of  development,  and  by  the  I'elative 
precedence  which  that  law,  unfolding,  establishes. 

Let  us,  then,  follow  this  line  out,  and  look  at  some  of  the  truths 
which  belong  to  it,  and  see  if  they  are  not  important,  and  deep,  and 
very  solemn. 

1.  The  essential  truths  of  religion  (and  none  more  than  those  of 
the  Gospel — of  Christianity)  are  natural,  constitutional,  organic.  They 
have  theu'  elements  in  man's  own  nature.  They  were  not  first  cre- 
ated when  they  were  declared  by  inspired  men  to  the  world.  Inspired 
m«n,  declaring  the  truth  of  God,  simply  expounded  and  interpreted 
that  which  had  already  been  made  known  in  the  very  creation  of  man 
--in  his  very  nature.  A  mental  philosophy  does  not  create  mind. 
Mind  was  created  befoi'e  you  could  make  a  mental  philosophy.  The 
law  of  conscience  did  not  create  conscience.  Conscience  was  created 
before  there  could  be  a  law  of  conscience.  A  revealed  law  only  brings 
out  into  words  and  into  clear  declarations  that  which  lay  hidden  in 
the  nature  of  conscience.  The  whole  moral  constitution  is  not  a  thing 
which  is  imposed  on  us  by  commands  ab  extra.     It  inheres  in  man. 


THE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN.  307 

Tt  is  man.     It  is  the  fundamental  nature  of  the  human  soul. 

Any  great  fundamental  truth  which  you  find  in  the  Bible,  if  you 
take  it  by  analysis,  and  carry  it  back,  you  will  find  grounds  itself,  at 
last,  on  natural  law.  It  may  not  be  so  of  many  of  the  incidental  and 
instrumental  explanations  of  the  Bible ;  for  the  Bible  carries  some 
thing  more  than  mere  fundamental  truths.  The  ordinances  and  forms 
of  worship  may  not  be  traced  back  to  nature ;  but  all  those  great 
truths  which  involve  the  nature  of  right  and  wrong,  of  inferiority  and 
superiority,  of  submission,  of  obligation — all  that  goes  to  constitute 
what  we  call  moral  sense — every  truth  which  partakes  of  that  nature, 
has,  you  will  find,  a  foundation  in  the  nature  of  things. 

Moral  consciousness,  and  all  that  belongs  to  moral  consciousness, 
is  a  part  of  science.  Men  oftentimes  speak  about  a  revealed  truth ; 
and  there  is  much  that  has  been  made  known  which  would  not  have 
been  known  if  it  had  not  been  revealed ;  but,  after  all,  the  funda- 
mental elements  of  truth,  in  so  far  as  they  relate  to  man's  nature  and 
obligation,  are  not  revealed  except  in  the  sense  that  creation  is  a  reve- 
lation. They  are  provided  in  man's  nature.  And  if  he  only  had 
the  wisdom  to  know  what  he  was ;  if  he  only  had  the  scientific 
knowledge  to  know  how  to  unfold  his  moral  constitution,  every  man 
would  work  from  his  own  moral  consciousness  to  substantially  the 
same  ground  which  is  open  to  him  in  Scripture.  So  that,  when  I 
preach  the  Gospel,  particularly  in  its  relations  to  duty  and  obligation, 
I  feel  strong,  not  only  because  I  believe  him  that  bore  witness — be- 
cause I  believe  the  word  of  God — but  because,  tracing  the  woi'd  back, 
I  find  it  written  again  in  you.  I  find  it  to  be  true  Avhen  I  take  either 
direction.  Going  out  and  looking  into  life,  and  seeing  what  men  arc, 
what  they  do,  what  they  suffer,  what  they  want  and  what  is  possible, 
I  come  to  precisely  the  same  results  as  U'hen  I  look  into  the  sacred 
record.  Studying  man  as  I  do,  and  studying  the  word  of  God,  I  find 
the  two  are  respectively  witnesses  of  each  other,  and  both  together  are 
stronger  than  either  alone.  And  all  the  way  through,  you  shall  find 
the  word  of  God  appealing  to  this  consciousness  of  men,  appealing  to 
their  reason,  appealing  to  their  judgment,  appealing  to  their  feelings, 
to  bear  witness  to  the  essential  truth  of  tliat  which  is  stated  in  the 
word  of  God. 

Even,  then,  if  men  doubt  the  Church,  or  creeds,  they  will  not  get 
rid  of  that  which  all  churches  mean  and  preach,  or  should  endeavor  to 
mean  and  preach,  and  which  all  creeds  should  endeavor  to  include. 
No  man  has  got  rid  of  religion,  because  he  has  got  rid  of  the  popular 
expositions  of  religion,  or  because  he  has  got  rid  of  the  written  Book. 
For  religion  did  not  begin  in  the  Book.  The  Bible  is,  as  it  were,  the 
geogi-aphy  of  religion,  the  grammar  of  religion,  the  guide-book  of 
religion,  and  not  the  source  of  it,  nor  the  authority  for  it 


308  THE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN. 

2.  On  the  other  hand,  a  right  minded  man,  if  he  had  no  revelation, 
but  had  power  to  keep  his  mind  clear  and  sensitive,  and  his  conduct 
in  harmony  with  his  higher  nature  (I  am  making  a  supposition,  and 
not  declaring  a  fact),  would  go  up  on  to  the  plane  of  the  Gospel.  If 
a  man  were  capable  of  reading  the  law  of  his  own  being,  understand- 
ing his  own  organs  and  the  functions  of  them,  and  then  following  out 
the  indications  that  exist  in  himself,  he  would  be  brought  up  to  the 
substantial  ground  of  the  Christian  religion — that  of  reading  the  law 
which  is  written  in  himself  The  two  are  one.  Whichever  way  you 
start,  going  from  the  one  in  one  way,  and  from  the  other  in  another 
way,  the  roads  meet,  and  have  a  common  testimony. 

Hence,  the  Gospel  is  not  a  super-addition  to  nature.  It  is  the 
opening  of  nature.  It  is  the  development  of  nature.  It  is  the  blossom 
of  that  which  all  men  alike  possess,  and  which  belongs  to  the  race. 

You  should  bear  in  mind  that,  unfortunately,  the  term  nature  is 
used  in  two  senses.  It  is  used  by  theologians  mostly  to  signify  man's 
corrupt  state.  I  use  it,  however,  to  signify,  for  the  most  part,  that 
condition  which  God  first  intended.  Not  that  which  man  has  come  to 
by  perversion,  and  use,  and  liabit,  and  chai'acter,  but  that  line  of  devel- 
opment which  was  marked  out  in  the  decree  and  plan  of  God,  is  what 
I  consider  to  be  nature.  And  if  every  man  had  followed  out  that  na- 
ture, he  would  have  been  brought  substantially  from  his  own  moral 
consciousness  and  experience  up  to  the  grounds  of  the  Gospel  of 
Christ. 

3.  From  this  fundamental  view,  it  will  appear  that  right  and  wi'ong 
in  human  conduct,  in  the  main,  are  not  conventional ;  that  they  ai'e  not 
things  of  mere  custom ;  that  they  are  not  on  the  same  ground  that 
manners  and  ordinary  social  customs  are.  There  are  a  thousand 
things  in  life  which  may  be  changed.  They  are  different  in  different 
nations.  What  is  valid  in  one,  is  not  always  valid  in  another.  What 
is  regarded  as  just  in  one,  is  sometimes  not  regarded  as  equitable  in 
another.  Obligations  change,  and  modes  of  government  change ;  but 
fundamental  principles  do  not  change.  The  great  fundamental  princi- 
ples of  right  and  wrong,  as  they  are  interpreted  of  God — truth,  justice, 
purity,  and  love ;  or  in  other  words,  comprehensively,  holiness — these 
are  the  same  in  every  age.  It  makes  no  difference  how  much  men 
may  philosophize  about  them.  There  is  an  inherent  nature  of  the 
Boul,  and  it  is  the  parallel  of  the  body  itself  For,  though  there  are  a 
thousand  medical  systems,  or  laws  of  the  body  and  laws  of  health, 
sickness  and  recoveiy  remain  just  what  they  are,  as  facts,  no  matter 
what  men's  theories  are.  A  man  may  have  any  theory  he  pleases  of 
digestion,  but  digestion  has  a  theory  of  its  own,  and  does  what  it 
pleases.     A  man  may  speculate  as  much  as  he  pleases  about  his  head ; 


TEE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN.  309 

he  may  Tselieve  that  there  is  a  brain  in  it,  or  that  there  is  nothing  in  it ; 
but  his  belief  makes  no  difference  with  the  facts.  They  remain  as  they 
are.  If  one  should  say,  "  A  man  could  live  just  as  well  without  eating 
as  with," — could  he  t  If  one  should  say,  "  That  man  has  been  led  by  the 
nose  by  these  superstitious  doctors  who  say  that  he  must  sleep  five  or 
six  hours  a  day ;  but  I  tell  you  that  if  he  would  assert  his  independence 
he  would  not  need  to  sleep  at  all,  and  he  might  just  as  well  as  not  have 
the  whole  twenty-four  hours  to  himself," — could  he?  Is  sleep  a  part 
of  the  doctor's  getting  up  ?  Ai'e  eating  and  drinking  a  part  of  the 
doctor's  superstition?  If  a  man,  talking  of  bones,  says,  "A  man's 
bones  are  whalebones,  and,  if  he  only  would,  he  might  use  them  as 
such," — could  he  ?  Try  it.  Dash  your  foot  against  a  stone,  and  see.  \ 
If  a  man  says,  "  If  you  only  thought  so,  it  makes  no  difference  about 
yom-  conduct,"  well,  think  so,  and  put  your  hand  on  a  fii*e-log,  and  see 
whether  it  makes  no  difference.  The  great  facts  of  the  body — the 
brain,  the  chest,  the  tnink,  the  limbs,  the  bones,  the  ligaments,  the 
nerves,  the  blood,  every  part — these  do  not  stand  in  men's  notions ; 
they  stand  in  God  Almighty's  decrees ;  and  they  are  what  they  are  in 
spite  of  you ;  and  they  will  laugh  you  to  scorn  if  you  attempt  to  mod- 
ify them,  or  traverse  them. 

Now,  the  soul  has  a  definite  moral  constitution,  and  the  faculties 
of  the  human  mind  are  clearly  coordinated  to  work  well  in  some  du-ec- 
tions,  and  to  work  ill  in  other  directions ;  and  men  may  say,  '*  Among 
so  many  sects,  among  so  many  ministers,  and  among  so  many  doc- 
trines, nobody  can  tell  what  to  believe ;  all  is  superstition ;  and  I  am 
going  to  do  just  what  I  please."  Well,  do  as  you  please ;  but  reason 
has  its  own  law,  conscience  has  its  own  law,  and  all  the  affections  have 
then'  own  laws ;  and  if  you  use  yourself  in  one  way,  you  will  experience 
more  and  more  joy  and  peace  and  communion  with  God ;  whereas,  if 
you  use  yourself  in  another  way,  your  experience  will  be  that  of  grow- 
ing darkness,  of  growing  discontent,  and  multiplying  conflicts;  and 
your  whole  soul  will  be  turned  into  a  criminal  court,  and  every  faculty 
will  be  arraigned  as  a  culprit,  and  brought  up  for  judgment  and  con- 
demned ;  and  you  will  be  of  all  men  most  miserable.  You  have  a  law 
in  your  moral  nature  just  as  much  as  in  your  physical  natui'e ;  and  a 
man's  believing  or  disbelieving  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  facts.  The 
consequences  are  determined  from  that  original  creative  act  which 
made  you  organically,  and  in  God's  decree,  what  you  are  in  your  intel- 
lectual and  moral  state. 

As,  then,  a  man  must  observe  what  he  is,  and  must  obey  the  laws 
of  nature,  if  he  would  be  healthy  and  strong  and  happy  in  bodily- 
things  ;  so  it  is  with  religious  things.  You  cannot  set  aside  religion- 
because  you  do  not  like  it.     It  does  not  come  by  the  priests,  although- 


310  THE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN. 

they  meddle  with  it,  and  sometimes  mar  it.  Nor  does  it  come  by  the 
church.  The  church  does  not  create  it.  Nor  does  it  come  by  the 
Bible.  The  Bible  followed  after  the  moral  constitution  of  man,  instead 
of  preceding  it 

4.  Men  are  not  released  from  obligations  to  virtue  and  religion 
simply  by  keeping  away  from  the  church,  and  from  preaching,  and 
from  the  various  vexatious  intrusions  of  other  men's  consciences. 
There  are  many  who  think  that  if  they  shut  out  distm-bing  truths  they 
will  have  rest.  No,  there  will  be  no  rest  for  them.  The  word  of  God 
comes  as  your  friend,  to  help  you,  by  giving  you  the  state  of  facts ;  but 
if  you  thi'ow  the  facts  away,  you  simply  throw  the  help  away. 

A  man  lies  sick,  and  sends  for  his  physician.  On  talking  with  the 
patient,  and  forming  his  judgment  of  his  case,  the  physician  prescribes 
such  and  such  remedies  to  be  taken,  and  forbids  him  to  use  such  and 
such  articles  of  food,  and  obliges  him  to  remain  in  the  house,  and  per- 
haps in  his  room,  and  possibly  on  his  bed.  But  after  the  physician 
has  gone,  the  man  says  to  his  attendant,  "  Go  tell  him  not  to  come 
again ;  to  keep  his  advice  and  his  medicines  away."  And  then  he 
says,  "  There !  I  have  dismissed  my  doctor."  If  you  could  only  dismiss 
your  disease  as  easily  as  you  can  your  doctor,  it  would  be  all  very  well ; 
but  to  dismiss  your  doctor  and  keep  your  disease,  is  not  wise.  The 
ache  stays  whether  you  take  the  potion  or  whether  you  do  not  take  it. 
The  fever  beats,  whether  you  believe  in  this  or  that  or  the  other  thing. 
The  fever  is  a  fact.  These  things  do  not  depend  on  quarreling  schools 
of  medicine. 

A  man  says,  "  The  High  Church  are  for  flummery,  and  the  Low 
Church  are  for  fanaticism.  One  church  is  for  sensuous  worship,  and 
another  church  is  for  no  outward  worship.  One  is  for  doctrines,  and 
another  is  for  no  doctrines.  One  is  very  rigid  in  its  notions,  and  an- 
other is  lax  and  loose  in  its  notions.  They  are  all  by  the  ears.  And 
I  am  going  to  take  my  own  way.  I  will  manage  my  case  myself." 
You  may  in  that  way  get  rid  of  churches,  and  of  a  thousand  disagree- 
able circumstances ;  but  will  any  man  get  rid  of  that  nature  in  which 
the  law  is  written,  "Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy 
heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength,  and  with  all  thy 
mind ;  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself?"  Here  is  the  law  that  determines 
selfishness.  The  marrow  of  the  moral  nature  of  man  is  the  necessity 
of  habitual,  constitutional,  continuous,  characteristic  benevolence. 

Go  out,  now,  into  the  world.  Go  out  greedily  to  get  gain.  Go  out 
and  try  to  be  happy.  "Wind  yourself  up  with  the  key  of  selfishness. 
Try  to  make  your  own  powers  serve  you  faithfully  in  harmony  with 
each  other.  They  are  at  a  jangle  with  themselves.  And  you  are  not 
any  better  oflT  because  you  have  put  away  from  you  the  church  and  ec- 


THE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN.  311 

clesiastical  things.  For  the  obligations  rest  not  on  the  church,  but  on 
you. 

Not  they  alone  who  have  made  a  profession  of  religion  are  bound 
by  the  duties  of  religion.  Every  man  that  lives  is  bound  by  them  as 
much  as  church  members.  A  man  does  not  see  any  bettor  for  being  in 
an  occulist's  establishment.  The  necessity  of  his  seeing,  or  the  desirable- 
ness of  it,  does  not  arise  from  the  fact  that  he  is  in  an  occulist's  estab- 
lishment. It  arises  from  the  nature  of  things.  And  if  a  man  has  oph- 
thalmia, the  necessities  of  his  eye,  and  the  laws  of  sight,  are  just  the 
same  as  though  he  were  under  medical  treatment  and  care.  And  yet, 
there  are  a  great  many  people  who  seem  to  think  that  of  course  a  man 
ought  to  do  certain  things  because  he  is  a  member  of  the  Church.  They 
seem  to  think  that  being  a  member  of  the  Church  imposes  obligations 
on  a  man.  No,  the  obligations  came  long  before  the  Church  could 
have  imposed  them  upon  him.  You  say,  "  I  am  not  a  member  of  the 
Church,  and  you  ought  not  to  expect  that  of  me."  But  are  you  not 
born  ?  Have  you  not  a  temperament  ?  Have  you  not  that  law  of  God 
written  in  you  Avhich  makes  it  necessary  that  you  should  come  to  the 
help  of  the  Church?  I  preach  right,  purity,  holiness,  to  you,  not  be- 
cause you  are  baptized,  not  because  you  are  included  in  the  covenants 
of  the  Church,  but  because  you  are  men.  If  you  had  never  heard  a 
Sabbath  bell,  nor  seen  a  Bible,  these  great  obligations  would  have  rest- 
ed down  on  you,  just  as  they  do  now,  by  the  very  primal  conditions  of 
your  creation.  They  are  as  universal  as  man  ;  and  you  are  inexcusable, 
whoever  you  are,  if  you  set  aside  the  duties  of  religion  because  the 
Chm'ch  ministers  them.     The  Church  does  not  create  them. 

5.  There  is  an  impression  among  many  that  there  is  a  freedom  and 
a  largeness  gained  by  going  out  of  the  sphere  of  religious  teaching  into 
doubt,  into  skepticism,  into  infidelity.  There  is  much  that  men  call  in- 
fidelity which  is  not  infidelity.  A  man  may  rise  to  a  higher  truth,  and 
he  may  drop  a  lower  one  in  doing  so.  A  man,  in  a  corrupt  age,  and 
in  an  ignorant  church  or  sect,  may,  like  Luther,  rise  to  a  higlier  ground. 
And  calling  him  an  infidel  does  not  make  him  one.  Whatever  ti'uth 
makes  you  more  faithful,  more  just,  more  pure,  more  loving,  more  inti- 
mate in  your  relations  to  God,  and  more  confident  of  the  reality  of  in- 
visible things  ;  whatever  view  releases  you  from  the  thrall  of  biting, 
bitter,  heated  prejudices,  is  not  infidelity.  It  is  revelation.  And  em- 
bracing such  a  truth  or  view  is  rising  to  a  higher  foi'in  of  religious  be- 
lief. But  there  are  many  who  do  take  on  iniidelity  in  its  relaxing 
forms — that  infidelity  which  denies,  negates, everything;  that  is,  which 
takes  away  the  stress  of  their  consciences.  And  they  laugh,  and  say, 
"I  used  to  feel  guilty  if  I  broke  the  Sabbath  ;  but  I  do  not  now.  I 
used  to  think  that  I  ought  to  read  the  Bible  every  day ;  but  now  I  do 


312  THE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN. 

not  read  it  once  a  year.  I  am  freer  than  I  was.  I  used  to  think  that 
I  ought  to  pray ;  but  prayer  is  a  superstition."  And  so  men  go  on  set- 
tin  f  aside  one,  and  another,  and  another  point  of  fundamental  religious 
belief;  and  they  think  they  are  becoming  more  and  more  free ;  and 
they  ridicule  Christians,  whom  they  think  to  be  bound  hand  and  foot. 

Now,  I  do  not  mean  to  say,  as  against  infidelity,  that  the  Christian 
Churches  have  the  perfect  view  of  religion.  It  is  not  my  purpose  to 
Bay  that  the  theology  of  the  times  is  more  or  less  perfect  or  imperfect, 
or  more  or  less  crooked  or  straight.  But  I  do  affirm  that  the  faith 
which  is  held  by  all  sects  of  Christians  is  in  the  main  a  guide  and  a 
light.     It  might  be  a  better  light,  but  it  is  a  light. 

You  and  another  man  are  walking  in  a  troublous  path.  There  are 
precipices  on  the  right,  pi'ecipices  on  the  left,  and  deep  morasses  below, 
from  which,  if  a  man  be  mired  in  them,  it  is  almost  impossible  that  he 
should  be  extricated.  Your  companion  is  walking  with  a  little  lantern, 
containing  only  a  tallow  candle.  You  are  walking  without  anything 
by  which  to  guide  your  steps.  He,  with  his  tallow  candle,  in  a  little 
lantei'n,  carries  his  dim  light  before  him,  and,  taking  one  step  at  a  time, 
manages  to  pick  his  way,  though  with  some  difficulty.  You,  who  are 
so  bold  as  to  venture  without  any  light,  say  to  him,  "  Your  tallow  can- 
dle makes  a  miserable  pretence  of  giving  light :  of  all  absurd  things,  the 
greatest  is  the  attempt  to  make  one's  way  through  the  world  with  such 
a  light  as  that ;"  and  you  knock  it  into  the  mud.     And  it  is  pitch  dark. 

It  may  be  that  the  lantern  could  have  been  improved ;  but  is  it  im- 
proved by  darkness  ?  Now  the  man  has  nothing  to  guide  himself  with. 
That  was  the  only  light  he  had.  It  was  a  feeble,  glimmering  light,  to 
be  sure  ;  but  it  was  enough,  though  he  was  obliged  to  walk  slowly  and 
cautiously,  to  guide  him  safely.  But  you  have  knocked  it  out  of  his 
hand.  And  he  makes  a  misstep,  and  plunges  headlong  down  the  prec- 
ipice, and  perishes. 

Suppose  all  is  true  that  you  say  of  sectarianism  and  superstition : 
suppose  all  is  true  that  you  say  of  churches : — after  all,  are  they  not 
better  than  nothing  ?  Is  there  not  much  helj)  in  them  ?  Is  there  not 
much  guidance  in  them  ?  Do  not  they  attempt  to  take  hold  of  those 
fundamental  instincts  which  belong  to  men,  and  which  must  be  cared 
for  and  satisfied  ?  And  do  they  not  go  a  certain  way  toward  satisfying 
them  ?  And  does  not  infidelity  bring  men  into  bondage  and  darkness, 
instead  of  into  liberty  and  light  ? 

6.  By  throwing  off  religious  faith,  and  the  restraint  of  the  Church, 
men  do  not  escape  conviction  of  sin,  nor  a  sense  of  guilt,  nor  fear,  nor 
unhappiness.  The  a[)ostle,  in  the  first  chapter  of  his  epistle  to  the  Ro- 
mans, speaks  upon  this  point : 

"  That  which  may  be  known  of  God,  is  manifest  in  them ;  for  God  hatb 


THE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN.  313 

showed  it  unto  them.  For  the  invisible  things  of  him  from  the  creation  of 
the  world  are  clearly  seen,  beingr  understood  by  the  things  that  are  made, 
even  his  eternal  power  and  Godlaead,  so  that  they  are  without  excuse." 

If  there  were  not  a  church  on  the  globe  ;  if  there  were  not  a  Bible 
in  the  world ;  if  there  were  not  a  teaching  minister  on  the  earth ;  if 
there  were  nothing  but  the  sun  by  day,  and  the  stars  by  night,  and  the 
rolling  seasons ;  and  if  there  were  but  a  single  man  living,  and  he  had 
the  faculties  that  we  have  now,  after  all,  he  would  be  witliout  excuse. 
For  God  has  made  the  heavens,  and  the  glimmering  light  of  nature ; 
and  these  ai"e  enough  to  hold  a  man  responsible  for  his  character  and 
conduct. 

And  then,  in  the  second  chapter  of  the  same  epistle,  the  apostle 
says, 

"  "When  the  gentiles  which  have  not  the  law,  do  by  nature  the  things 
contained  in  the  law,  these  having  no  law,  are  a  law  unto  themselves.  Which 
shew  the  work  of  the  law  written  in  their  hearts,  their  conscience  also  bear- 
ing witness,  and  their  thoughts  the  meanwhile  accusing,  or  else  excusing 
one  another." 

There  is  no  man  of  any  considerable  degree  of  reflectiveness,  or  of 
any  considerable  degree  of  Christian  sensibility,  who  is  not  made  un- 
happy in  himself  by  the  way  in  which  he  is  living.  In  the  excitement 
of  a  career  of  business,  in  the  intoxication  of  pleasure,  men  drown  their 
unhappiness;  but  the  moment  there  comes  a  leisure  moment,  there 
comes  a  time  for  thought.  Reason  rises  up  in  every  man's  heart,  under 
such  circumstances.  There  is  not  a  man  here,  I  do  not  care  how  care- 
less he  is,  who  has  not  hours  in  which  he  sits  in  judgment  on  himself. 
He  measures  sometimes  by  one  rule,  and  sometimes  by  another.  A 
man's  reason  looks  over  his  life,  and  he  says,  "  I  have  toiled  fifty  years, 
and  1  have  built  my  house,  I  have  reared  my  dwelling  strong,  and 
filled  it  with  articles  of  use  and  ornament,  and  I  have  a  place  among 
men  ;  but,  after  all,  what  am  I  profited  ?  Is  life  worth  what  I  have 
spent  for  it  ?  Am  I  ha})py  ?  If  I  might  live  again,  would  I  live  right 
over  the  same  life  ?  Have  I  satisfied  my  early  aspiration  ?  Have  I  re- 
alized my  own  ideal?"  Or,  if  he  looks  more  closely  at  himself,  in  his 
habit  of  analysis,  he  says,  "  Am  I  selfish,  or  am  I  not  ?  I  have  learned 
to  wield  the  pen ;  I  know  how  to  paint  the  picture ;  I  can  carve  the 
statue  ;  I  am  able  to  build  a  house  or  a  ship ;  I  can  guide  the  machine ; 
I  have  the  skill  to  invent  curious  help  for  domestic  industry ;  I  can 
handle  the  sword ;  I  have  power  to  manage  anything  in  this  world,  al- 
most ;  but  myself  I  cannot  manage.  I  do  not  know  how  to  take  care 
of  my  temper.  jSIy  conscience  is  all  the  time  jangling  with  my  better 
feelings.  On  the  one  side  is  reason,  and  on  the  other  side  is  passion. 
I  am  often  carried  away  by  temptation.  Everything  is  wrong.  I  un- 
derstand how  to  control  money,  but  my  own  self  I  do  not  understand 
how  to  contiol.     My  being  is  an  enigma  to  me.     I  am  not  acquainted 


S14  THE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN. 

with  its  laws.  I  am  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  my  soul.  And  there  is 
nothing  on  the  globe  that  I  make  such  poor  business  in  dealmg  with, 
as  myself." 

A  man  reads  this,  not  out  of  the  Bible,  but  out  of  his  own  soul 
There  is  a  law  of  God.     There  is  a  way  in  which  the  mind  was  made 
to  act.     And  if  a  man's  faculties  do  not  live  in  harmony  (as  nobody's 
do),  then  his  own  thoughts  accuse  him,  and  his  judgment  judges  him, 
and  his  moral  sense  brings  him  under  condemnation. 

It  is  in  such  cases  that  the  Gospel  is  lifted  up,  and  that  a  way  is 
shown  to  men ;  and  though  they  may  set  aside  the  overtures  of  Jesus 
Christ,  the  revelation  of  mercy,  they  cannot  set  aside  this  judgment 
that  is  pei"pctually  going  on  in  their  consciences. 

7.  The  gradation  in  condemnation  is  a  matter  that  ought  to  excite 
a  passing  thought  in  our  minds.  Those  who  have  been  taught  the 
truth,  and  who  believe  it,  and  who  then  sin,  are  condemned  in  the 
greatest  measure.  Their  guilt  is  according  to  the  light  they  have  had. 
But  let  no  man  say,  "  I  was  born  of  ignorant  parents,  I  was  born  re- 
mote from  instruction,  and  I  cannot  be  condemned."  Yes,  according 
to  your  measure  you  will  be  condemned.  You  may  not  be  condemned 
as  others  are  ;  but  the  lowest  grade  of  condemnation  will  be  more  than 
you  can  bear. 

No  one  can  afford  to  be  sick  in  this  world,  in  his  body.  All  the 
contrivances  and  all  the  adaptations  of  nature  have  never  made  any- 
body attempt  to  be  sick.  You  never  can  change  the  body  in  this  re 
spect.  You  can  make  the  body  love  odious  things — tobacco,  and  what 
not ;  you  can  very  much  modify  the  digestive  powers  ;  but  no  modifi- 
cation, no  sort  of  treatment,  ever  made  sickness  an  agreeable  thing. 
It  goes  against  the  grain  altogether. 

And  by  no  means  can  a  soul  that  is  sick,  that  is  out  of  order,  be  at 
peace  with  itself,  or  be  happy.  There  is  a  condemnation  that  rests 
upon  it  just  so  long  as  it  is  in  that  state.  And  now  comes  the  decla- 
ration of  the  Gospel, 

"  Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God." 

It  rests  not  alone  upon  those  that  have  been  instructed,  but  upon 
everybody.  Everybody  that  carries  a  disordered  imagination,  a  dark- 
ened understanding,  or  an  undeveloped  or  perverted  conscience ;  every 
man  who  is  living  by  the  power  of  pride,  or  by  the  pioneering  of  sel- 
fishness ;  everybody  that  has  substituted  lust  for  sentiment ;  everybody 
that  takes  counsel  of  his  animal  nature,  and  not  of  his  spiritual  nature ; 
everybody  that  is  a  man  of  the  senses  and  of  the  flesh,  must  be  born 
again.  And  though  he  may  not  be  condemned  as  they  are  >/ho  have 
sinned  against  greater  light,  after  all  he  will  be  condemned,  and  his 
condoranation  will  be  as  gi'eat  as  he  can  bear. 


THE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN.  315 

8.  This  moral  constitution  is  not  a  mere  thing  of  time.  It  is  not 
an  arrangement  for  a  special  occasion,  nor  for  a  transitory  scene.  I 
understand  it  to  be  the  testimony  of  the  Saviour,  and  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament all  through,  that  right  and  wrong  are  eternal ;  that  they  are 
not  local,  nor  secular,  nor  transient ;  that  pain  follows  disobedience ; 
that  he  who  does  wrong  suffers,  and  will  suffer  as  long  as  he  does 
wrong ;  that  the  moral  constitution  which  divides  men  in  this  world, 
divides  them  in  the  other ;  and  that  he  who  by  the  help  of  God  obeys 
the  divine  will,  rises  to  higher  and  higher  degrees  of  happiness.  As 
on  the  one  hand,  he  that  in  this  world  loves  that  which  is  right,  and 
seeks  that  which  is  right,  and,  so  fai*  as  in  him  lies,  does  what  is  right, 
goes  on  forever  and  forever  with  increasing  joy  and  blessedness ;  so, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  who,  in  this  world,  perverts  his  body  and  soul, 
grows  worse  and  worse.  And  the  evil  effects  of  his  misspent  life  do 
not  drop  off  from  him  when  he  dies,  but  go  on  with  him.  There  is 
some  system  of  moral  discriminations,  of  rewards  and  punishments, 
that  goes  on  forever.  It  is  Christ's  testimony,  it  belongs  to  universal 
being,  it  is  characteristic  of  God's  moral  government,  that  right  and 
wrong  are  discriminable  qualities,  and  that  pain  goes  with  one  and 
pleasure  Math  the  other — and  not  just  now,  as  belonging  to  the  devel- 
oping period,  but  in  all  time.  The  teaching  is,  that  to  all  eternity 
these  qualities  go  on,  and  that  if  a  man  continues  sinful  forever  and 
forever,  he  will  suffer  forever  and  forever,  while  if  he  is  holy  forever 
and  forever,  he  will  be  happy  forever  and  forever. 

You  are  not  sinful,  then,  because  you  have  been  preached  to  ;  you 
are  not  sinful  because  the  Bible  says  so  and  so ;  you  are  sinful  on  ac- 
count of  the  perversion  of  that  nature  which  God  gave  you,  partly 
through  ignorance,  and  partly  through  the  willful  blinding  of  your 
eyes.  For  a  thousand  reasons  you  have  gone  wrong.  But  when  an 
offer  is  made  to  you  of  pardon  for  the  past  and  of  help  to  set  the  bro- 
ken bone,  or  to  readjust  the  dislocated  joint ;  when  God  in  his  infinite 
mercy  througli  Jesus  Christ  gives  you  a  remedy  for  your  mistakes  and 
sins  thus  far  if  you  will  forsake  that  which  is  evil  in  the  future,  you 
turn  away  from  him,  and  reject  the  proffered  help,  and  will  keep  the 
terrible  disease.  Having  the  remedy  within  your  reach,  you  are  des- 
troyed. 

Men  are  very  much  like  lunatics  in  hospitals.  All  their  wants  are 
provided  for ;  everything  is  done,  that  can  be  done,  for  their  comfort 
and  welfare  ;  they  have  kind  and  benevolent  physicians  and  attendants ; 
and  yet,  they  set  fire  to  the  institution  and  burn  it  up.  They  are  not 
luade  well  by  this  deed.  It  is  simply  a  part  of  their  insanity  to  do  iU 
And  many  men  who  are  not  supposed  to  be  lunatics  are  doing  the  same 
tiling.     They  are  attempting  to  destroy  the  very  institutions  which 


316  TEE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN. 

were  erected  for  tbeii-  benefit.  They  are  resisting,  rejecting,  setting 
aside,  all  those  curative  influences  by  which  God  would  bring  them  out 
of  the  state  into  which  they  have  come  through  the  perversion  of  their 
nature,  back  into  that  state  which  he  designed  for  men. 

It  now  only  remains  for  me,  having  laid  these  brief  facts  before  you, 
to  say,  that  this  is  your  business,  not  mine.  In  so  far  as  you  are  con- 
cerned, I  have  the  sympathies  which  properly  exist  between  man  and 
man,  and  which  I  borrow  from  my  God ;  and  yet,  after  all,  to  his  own 
Master  every  man  stands  or  falls.  This  matter  concerns  you  first, 
and  it  concerns  you  most.  My  duty  is  completed  in  presenting  the 
subject  to  you.  Your  business  is  to  profit  by  the  instruction  you  have 
received. 

By  the  continuous  importunity  of  the  pulpit  men  come  at  last  to 
have  a  kind  of  hidden  feeling  that  they  confer  a  favor  on  the  church 
when  they  repent  and  come  into  the  church.  They  seem  to  feel  that 
God  himself  is  laid  under  obligation  to  them.  They  seem  to  think  that 
they  have  done  a  good  thing  in  consenting  to  repent  and  go  over  to 
the  side  of  religion. 

This  is  a  living  and  dying  matter.  It  is  a  question  like  that  of  a 
mortal  disease  which  has  taken  hold  of  you.  When  you  take  the  doc- 
tor's medicine,  you  do  not  confer  a  favor  on  him  so  much  as  you  do  on 
yourself  And  if  you  refuse  salvation,  if  you  reject  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  it  is  you  that  lose,  not  I.  Though  every  man  on  the  street 
where  I  live  were  unvirtuous,  virtue  would  be  just  as  right,  just  as 
good,  and  just  as  profitable  to  me.  Though  every  man  in  New  York 
but  you  were  a  spendthrift  and  a  vagabond,  economy,  frugality  and  a 
wise  financial  management,  would  be  just  as  good  for  you.  Every 
man  stands  for  himself,  on  his  own  feet ;  and  in  nothing  so  much  as  in 
the  concerns  of  his  own  soul. 

You  have  your  own  nature,  and  the  law  of  God  is  wi"itten  on  that 
nature.  You  have  that  in  you  which  will  always  interpret  right  and 
wrong.  If  you  go  wrong,  you  entail  on  yourselves  sorrows  so  long  as 
you  go  wrong.  And  I  bring  to  you  the  tidings  of  health — of  a  Physi- 
cian who  can  cure  the  soul,  fill  it  with  light,  fill  it  with  joy,  and  lift  it 
above  itself,  and  finally  restore  all  wastes,  and  correct  all  dislocations, 
and  cure  all  morbid  conditions,  so  that  you  shall  shine  out  as  the  stars 
in  the  heavens.  If  you  take  this  blessed  Friend  and  skillful  Physician 
tidings  of  whom  I  bring  to  you  to  night,  joy  forever  and  forever  be  on 
your  head!     If  you  reject  him,  you  alone  shall  bear  it. 

When  the  hour  of  death  comes,  no  man  can  have  companionship 
in  dying.  No  two  or  more  persons  can  die  together  so  as  to  hold  each 
other  up.  Every  man  dies  alone,  dies  for  himself,  and  goes  before  God 
on  his  own  behalf.     "  Every  one  of  us  shall  give  account  of  himself  to 


I 


THE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN.  317 


God."  Even  if  the  whole  heaven  is  filled  with  thronging  multitudes, 
you  will  seem  to  yourself  to  stand  as  though  there  were  not  another 
person  in  existence  besides  you.  And  all  the  weight  of  God's  law  and 
of  God's  authority  will  centre  and  rest  full  on  you. 

It  is  your  interest  to  repent  and  to  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
And  while  it  is  a  day  of  mercy ;  while  God  is  near  to  you ;  and  while 
by  your  conscience,  by  your  hopes,  and  by  your  fears,  you  are  being 
di'awn  to  him,  it  behooves  every  man  of  you  to  take  hold  in  earnest,  so 
that  it  shall  be  not  a  mere  experiment,  but  a  blessed  success  and  vic- 
tory. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

We  bless  thee,  our  Father,  for  that  knowledge  which  is  given  us,  through 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  of  thy  being,  and  of  thy  heart.  We  are  no  more 
strangers  or  foreigners.  We  are  now  of  the  household  of  faith.  We  are 
brought  near.  All  our  fears  are  driven  away.  Our  hope  grows  apace,  even 
uato  salvation.  By  faith  working  through  love,  we  discern  thee.  By  faith 
we  dwell  in  thee.  We  appropriate  thy  righteousness  to  ourselves,  and  enter 
into  all  the  covenants  of  love  with  thee,  and  are  made  one — one  with  God, 
and  one  with  Christ  Jesus,  and  one  with  the  indwelling  Spirit.  And  so  our 
life  is  comprehended  in  thine.     So  all  our  ways  follow  thy  ways. 

We  rejoice  in  the  blessedness  of  this  communion:  in  all  the  peace  which 
we  have  had  ;  in  all  the  joy  which  it  has  inspired ;  in  all  the  promises  which 
it  holds  out  for  the  future,  and  which  are  Yea  and  Amen.  Not  one  of  thy 
promises  shall  fail.  We  may  put  our  foot  upon  every  one  of  them,  and  they 
shall  not  give  way  beneath  us. 

Thou,  O  God,  dost  love  us  better  than  we  love  ourselves.  Thou  art  more 
gracious  unto  us  than  we  know  how  to  be  unto  ourselves.  And  therefore 
the  more  is  the  guilt  of  our  destruction,  and  the  more  wicked  is  our  break- 
ing away  from  thee  and  turning  to  ourselves,  and  hewing  out  cisterns,  broken 
cisterns,  that  can  hold  no  water. 

We  rejoice,  O  Lord !  in  thy  recovering  grace ;  in  thy  patience  which 
works  in  these  obdurate  hearts ;  in  that  fatherly  kindness  which  thou  hast 
shown,  and  art  showing.  And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  not  weary  of  the 
work  of  subduing  that  fractiousness  of  our  dispositions  which  provokes 
thee. 

Be  pleased,  0  God  !  to  spare  us.  Look  upon  the  face  of  thine  anointed. 
Behold  us  in  Christ  Jesus.  And  we  pray  that  we  may  be,  by  thy  care  and 
culture,  transformed  into  his  image.  And  if  we  shall  yet  stand  confirmed 
in  virtue,  and  strong  in  all  that  is  good,  and  fruitful  in  love,  holy  and  beau- 
teous, it  will  be  by  the  grace  of  God.  Not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name, 
shall  be  the  praise.  For,  thou  shalt  work  in  us,  and  fashion  all  our  good- 
ness for  us,  working  in  us  to  will  and  to  do  of  thy  good  i)leasure. 

Now,  we  beseech  of  thee,  accept  our  thanksgiving  for  the  blessings  of 
the  day.  It  has  been  a  day  of  rest.  It  has  been  a  day  of  knowledge.  It 
has  been  a  day  of  incitement.  Thou  hast  made  the  sanctuary  pleasant  unto 
us;  and  thou  hast  made  our  homes  as  another  sanctuary.  And  we  thank 
thee  for  all  these  relationships,  and  all  the  enjoyments  which  flow  from 
them. 


318  THE  MORAL  CONSTITUTION  OF  MAN. 

And  we  pray  to  night,  in  the  hour  that  is  set  apart,  walled  in  by  dark- 
ness and  by  storms,  that  we  may  find  that  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all 
understanding.  May  we  rejoice  in  the  sanctuary  again,  and  take  new  cour- 
age, with  new  confession,  and  new  hope  and  faith,  for  the  life  which  is  to 
come.  And  we  pray  thee,  when  we  shall  go  down  into  the  morrow,  that  it 
may  be  with  our  loins  girt  about,  with  a  clearer  sense  of  duty,  with  more 
manliness,  and  with  more  Christian  fidelity.  And  may  we  thus  live  from 
Sabbath  to  Sabbath,  until  all  our  days  on  earth  are  over.  Then  throw  wide 
open  the  gate.  Then  stand  thou  therein  to  receive  thy  prodigals  home. 
Then  put  thine  arms  about  our  neck,  and  clothe  us,  and  put  the  ring  upon 
our  hand,  and  bring  us  with  joy  and  rejoicing  into  our  Father's  house. 

And  to  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Spirit,  shall  be  praises  everlasting. 
Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  word  which  has 
been  spoken,  of  caution,  and  interpretation,  and  warning.  May  we  find  in 
it  reasons  for  more  vigilance.  May  we  be  more  earnest,  and  take  heed  to 
the  things  which  are  within  us,  as  well  as  to  the  things  which  are  without. 
Reveal  to  us  the  relations  of  the  life  to  come.  Make  us  to  feel  that  we  are 
casting  ourselves  away.  The  most  precious  of  all  things  to  ourselves,  we  are 
selling  for  dross.  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and 
lose  his  own  soul  ? 

O  Lord,  our  God !  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt,  by  thy  Spirit, 
bring  men  to  thoughtfulness,  and  to  a  better  purpose.  May  there  be  many 
that  shall  be  gathered,  by  the  power  of  thy  Spirit,  into  the  kingdom  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise  for  ever  and  ever.    Amen. 


Follow  1  :v  3U  Me. 


INVOCATON. 


July  10,  1870. 

OUR  FATHER,  wilt  tlioii  "be  pleaserl  to  draw  near  to  us  tliis  morning. 
May  we  know  thy  coming,  and  thy  presence,  and  with  our  heart  cry 
out  for  thee,  that  the  yearnings,  and  the  desires  of  holy  things  may  be  wit- 
nesses and  testimonies  of  thy  power  and  indwelling  presence.  Grant  that 
thy  heart  may  seem  to  us,  not  as  the  dead  letter.  Forth  from  it,  as  though 
from  the  sepulchre,  may  the  Spirit  of  truth  come ;  and  to  day  may  it  be  life 
to  us.  Accept  the  services  of  devotion — our  praise,  our  affections,  our  offer- 
ings of  consecration.  Bless  our  fellowship  one  with  another.  Grant  that 
all  the  offices  of  instruction  or  of  worship  may  be  divinely  guided;  and  be 
profltable  to  us,  and  glorify  thy  name.  In  the  name  of  Christ  AmeU: 
U. 


FOLLOW  THOU  ME. 


"Then  Peter,  turning  about,  seeth  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved,  fol- 
lowing ;  (which  also  leaned  on  his  breast  at  supper,  and  said,  Lord,  which 
is  he  that  betrayeth  thee  ?)  Peter  seeing  him,  saith  to  Jesus,  Lord,  and  what 
shall  this  man  do  ?  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come, 
what  is  that  to  thee  ?     Follow  thou  me."— Jno.  XXI.,  20-23. 


It  is  evident  that  the  first  writing  of  the  Gospel  of  John  terminated 
at  the  last  clause  of  the  20th  Chapter.  It  has  been  thought,  by  many, 
on  that  account,  and  from  the  nature  of  the  21st  Chapter,  that  it  was 
added  by  another  hand ;  but  the  ripest  opinions,  I  think,  agree,  now, 
that  this  was  a  supplementary  chapter  added  by  John  himself  at  a  later 
period.  Of  the  four  Gospels,  the  first  that  was  written  was  that  of 
Matthew ;  and  it  is  probable  that  it  was  written  a  few  years  after  our 
IMaster's  decease.  Then  came  the  Gospel  of  Mark ;  and  then,  that  of 
Luke,  at  variable  periods,  with  several  years  between. 

The  old  tradition  is,  that  on  a  certain  occasion  some  holy  men, 
elders  of  the  church,  came  to  John,  then  extremely  old — somewhere 
between  ninety  and  a  hundred  years  of  age,  probably — and,  showing 
him  these  three  Gospels,  asked  him  to  add  anything  to  them  which,  in 
his  judgment,  would  make  them  more  complete.  And  that  he  there- 
upon drew  up  his  own  Gospel,  as  adding  to  the  others  that  which 
he  thought  they  lacked.  Very  certain  it  is  that  the  Gospel  of  John 
has  more  matter  which  the  others  have  not,  than  it  has  of  matter 
which  is  common  to  the  foui*.  However  that  may  be,  his  is  the  last 
Gospel  that  was  written,  and  this  twenty-first  chapter  is  the  last  part 
of  the  last  Gospel.  So  that  when  he  had  read  the  other  Gospels  atten- 
tively ;  when  he  had  drawn  up  his  own ;  and  afterwards,  while  recall- 
ing, by  memory,  the  various  scenes  of  his  Master's  life,  having  expended 
the  whole  force  of  his  narrative  upon  that  part  which  was  enacted 
around  about  Jerusalem,  the  other  Evangelists  mainly  concerning  them- 
selves with  the  Galilean  life,  John  added  much  which  refers  to  Christ's- 
life  in  Galilee,  and  this  one  incident  besides. 

Jesus  had  been  declaring  to  Peter,  prophetically,  the  manner  of  his 
death.     He  was  to  die  a  death  of  violence ;  and  Christ  had  predicted 

SusnAY  MoRNixo,  July  10,  1870.  Lesson:  1.  Thess.,  V.  IIymxs  (FlymouUi  Co11o<^ 
tion) :  Nos.  31,  454. 


320  FOLLO  W  THO U  ME. 

it.  Peter,  seeing  John  following,  says  to  the  Master,  with  that  intru- 
sive curiosity,  almost  meddlesomeness,  which  belonged  to  Peter's  char- 
acter, "  What  shall  this  man  do  ?  I  am  to  be  slain ;  but  what  is  to  be 
the  history  of  this  man  f*     And  Jesus  said, 

"  If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is  that  to  thee  ?  Follow  thou 
me." 

John  adds, 

"  Then  went  this  saying  abroad  among  the  brethren  that  that  disciple 
should  not  die." 

Misinterpreting  the  phrase,  "  If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come," 
men  got  the  notion  that  John  should  not  die.  And  he  quotes  the  in- 
cident to  correct  that  saying.  He  declares  that  the  Master  did  not  say 
that  he  should  not  die,  but  only  this : 

"  i/"  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is  that  to  thee  ?" 

He  does  not  expound  the  meaning  of  the  passage.  He  uses  it  sim- 
ply to  refute  that  rumor,  which  was  founded  upon  mistake.  That  there 
was  meaning  in  it  far  beyond  that  which  he  developed  on  this  occasion, 
there  can  be  no  doubt. 

Peter's  intrusive  boldness  seemed,  at  this  time,  as  usual,  to  exercise 
itself  in  putting  every  man  in  his  right  place.  He  was  unconsciously 
attempting  to  govern  others,  or  to  find  out  about  others.  He  did  not 
reflect  that  it  was  opposed  to  the  Christ  spirit.  He  did  not  reflect  that 
personal  consecration  was  the  first  thing  in  every  man's  life,  and  contin- 
uously the  most  important  thing ;  but  he  was  busy  in  respect  to  the 
probable  history  and  condition  of  those  around  about  him.  As  if  the 
external  history  of  any  of  them  was  a  thing  to  be  compared,  for  one 
single  moment,  with  their  adhesion  to  Christ;  with  the  relationship  of 
their  spiritual  union  with  their  Master  and  Head ! 

Or,  if  Peter's  motive  were  different  from  this  meddlesomeness ;  it  it 
were  an  anxiety  to  know  what  God  provided  for  his  people,  and  what 
was  to  be  the  providential  dealing  with  his  brethren,  and  particularly 
with  John  the  beloved,  even  then  it  was  carrying  the  matter  beyond 
wisdom,  in  the  presence  of  Chiist,  and  in  the  neai'ness  of  his  parting 
j&'om  them. 

In  either  case,  the  reply  was  pertinent — namely,  "  What  is  that  to 
thee?  Your  history  is  important  to  you;  but  what  concern  is  it  of 
yours  that  another  man's  history  is  to  be  this,  or  that,  or  another 
thing  ?  Your  history  is  in  me.  Follow  thou  me."  And  to  each  man, 
Christ  says,  "  Follow  thou  me — never  mind  others." 

The  emj^hasis  of  this  cannot  be  estimated  unless  we  consider  that 
Peter  was  an  apostle,  that  it  was  to  be  his  mission  to  make  known 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  men,  and  that  he  was  about  to  be  sent  out 
to  bring  in  disciples,  to  found  churches,  to  institute  a  polity  whose 
main  principles  should  operate  to  the  end  of  time. 


FOLLOW  THOU  MB.  321 

All  the  more,  therefore,  it  was  requisite  that  he  himself  should  fol- 
low Christ,  and  be  filled  with  his  Spirit,  not  making  his  mission,  nor 
his  external  duty,  nor  his  work  in  time,  the  main  and  chief  part  of  his 
concern,  but  founding  all  this  work  upon  a  pei"Sonal,  interior  experience 
of  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus  as  the  one  thing  needful  to  his  im- 
mortality. 

And  we  may  fairly  deduce  from  this  instance  several  points,  such 
as  these: 

1.  Following  Christ  is  a  personal  work  preceding  all  official  work, 
underlying  it,  as  the  soil  out  of  which  all  official  work  is  to  spring.  To 
follow  Christ  is  to  reproduce  in  ourselves  his  disjiositions,  to  accept  his 
ideas  of  life  and  of  duty,  to  fulfill  his  commands,  and  to  be  in  union 
with  him  by  love  and  sympathy. 

The  servant  of  Christ  has  all  the  instruments  belonging  to  the  work 
of  education  which  philosophy  has,  and  has,  over  and  above  all  others, 
his  own  personal  experience,  by  reason  of  the  intimate  communion  of 
his  soul  with  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  power  by  which  we  are  to 
instruct  men  is  not  simply  the  ordinary  didactic  power.  The  power  by 
which  we  are  to  teach  and  preach  is  not  simply  the  expository  power 
which  any  man  may  have.  It  is  not  that  which  secular  education  may 
give.  It  is  that  which  has  been  w^rought  in  us,  distinctively  and  pecu- 
liarly and  personally.  It  is  that  which  makes  us  individual,  and  our 
experience  individual.  It  is  that  which  constitutes  the  personality  of 
every  man's  ministry  in  this  world.  And  although  the  resources  of 
learning  are  to  be  availed  of,  although  all  ordinary  causes  are  to  be 
employed  for  ordinary  effects,  we  are  never  to  forget  that  the  distinc- 
tive and  peculiar  power  of  the  Christian  teacher  or  the  Christian  woi'k- 
er,  lies  in  that  which  has  happened  between  his  soul  and  God,  and 
which  is  original,  native  to  him,  and  distinctive  above  that  of  every 
other.  For  as  no  two  persons  are  alike,  so  the  work  of  grace  in  no 
two  hearts  is  alike.  And  every  man  has  a  teaching  and  a  power  dis- 
tinct from  that  of  any  other  man. 

Following  Chi-ist,  then,  is  the  main  preparation,  though  it  is  not 
the  only  one.  It  does  not  disdain  any  other  preparations ;  but  it  is 
that  foimdation  on  which  all  other  preparations  are  to  be  built.  It  is 
that  spirit  which  is  to  quicken  all  other  influences  and  instruments. 
It  is  that  which  God  hath  taught  us  by  the  indwelling  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  filling  our  conscience,  and  giving  intuition  to  our  whole  moral 
sense,  so  that  every  part  of  us  has  been  insjiired — not  authoritatively 
inspired,  but  inspired  in  other  respects  just  as  much,  and  just  as  really, 
as  the  apostles  and  holy  men  of  old  themselves  were  inspired  when  they 
taught  sacred  things. 

2.  One  is  in  danger  of  losing  his  personal  relations  with  Christ 


323  FOLLOW  THOU  ME. 

through  a  sphit  of  curiosity  and  a  spirit  of  anxiety  about  the  cause  of 
Christ  in  the  world — about  the  cause  of  events.  One  may,  by  a  curi- 
ous studying  of  the  probable  line  of  divine  providence,  be  so  absorbed 
as  to  lose  his  own  personal  identity,  I  had  almost  said,  as  a  follower 
of  Christ.  This  spirit  of  anxious  forelooking  is  as  mischievous  in 
spiritual  life  as  that  anxious  forethought  which  Christ  dissuades  us  from 
is  in  secular  things.  And  yet,  in  times  of  disturbance,  in  times  when 
it  is  doubtful  which  way  things  are  moving,  when  beliefs  are  broken 
up,  when  new  policies  invade  old  ones,  when  convulsions  take  place, 
the  heart  of  many  a  man  broods ;  and  many  a  Christian  man  says, 
"■The  old  paths  are  better;  but  the  flood  is  setting  in,  and  the  land- 
marks are  being  removed,  and  the  deluge  of  unbelief  and  uncertainty 
is  coming."  And  men  in  thus  brooding  on  the  probable  history  of  the 
church,  almost  forget  that  Christ  saye,  "  What  is  that  to  thee  ?  Fol- 
low thou  me." 

Your  personal  life  in  Jesus  Christ,  which  is  first,  and  is  higher  and 
better  than  everj^thing  else,  being  secured,  you  need  not  be  without 
curiosity,  and  you  are  not  forbidden  to  forelock,  and  to  imagine ;  but, 
after  all,  it  is  from  your  personal  connection  with  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  that  your  faith  is  to  come.  There  is  to  be  your  life,  and  not  in 
what  you  foresee,  nor  in  what  you  hope,  nor  in  what  you  desire,  of 
the  outward  history  of  the  cause  of  God  in  this  world. 

3.  Every  man's  personal  history  and  duties  are  so  separate,  so  in- 
dividual, so  private,  that  he  must  follow  Christ,  not  in  company  neces- 
sarily, nor  as  a  member  of  a  body,  but  for  himself  Whatever  Chris- 
tian families  are  in  this  world — whether  they  are  living  according  to 
the  woi-ld  or  not ;  whether  they  tolerate  unlawful  pleasures  or  not ; 
whether  they  are  remiss  or  not ;  whether  they  are  ordained  according 
to  the  mind  and  will  of  the  Spirit  that  governs  in  the  spiritual  realm, 
or  according  to  the  mind  and  will  of  the  spirit  that  governs  in  this 
world — this  does  not  concern  you  half  so  much  as  that  you  follow 
Christ.  Your  father  and  your  mother  may  seem  to  you  to  be  going 
wrong ;  but  you  are  not  their  judge,  except  so  far  as  to  determine  what 
your  duty  is.  Your  brothers  and  sisters  may  seem  to  you  to  be  taking 
undue  liberties ;  nevertheless  the  word  of  the  Lord  to  you,  and  to  each 
one  of  you,  is,  "  What  is  that  to  thee  ?  Your  salvation  does  not  stand 
in  another  person's  fidelity.  That  other  person  may  be  all  right,  and 
you  may  be  all  wrong ;  or  he  may  be  all  wrong,  and  you  may  be  all 
right.  Follow  thou  me,  and  I  will  take  care  of  him."  We  very  often 
are  so  prone  to  anxiety  through  our  afiections  that  we  often  uncon- 
Bciously  assume  the  attitude  of  dictation,  and  cany  all  the  burden  that 
we  should  carry  if  men  were  dependent  on  us  for  their  salvation,  and 
not  upon  God. 


FOLLOW  THOU  ME.  323 

Whatever  churches  are — whether  they  are  departing  from  the  faith 
of  the  fathers  or  not ;  whether  they  are  mixing  a  vain  philosophy  with 
the  ti-uth  or  not ;  whether  they  are  opening  the  doors  too  wide  to  the 
world  or  not ;  whether  they  are  throwing  out  ordinances  that  should 
be  retained,  or  taking  in  ordinances  that  are  the  work  of  men's  hands ; 
whether  they  are  going  up  or  down — whatever  may  be  their  condition, 
it  is  not  for  you  to  carry  their  burdens.  You  are  not  appointed  the 
bishop  of  the  churches,  nor  is  any  man.  And  the  word  of  the  Lord 
to  every  man  is  this:  "What  is  that  to  thee?  Follow  thou  me."  Not 
that  you  have  not  a  right  to  form  judgments ;  not  that  you  have  not  a 
right  to  have  an  affectionate  solicitude  for  the  welfare  of  the  churches 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  on  the  earth ;  but  you  have  no  right  to  form 
judments  and  to  have  solicitude  to  any  such  extent  as  to  disturb  your 
peace — certainly  not  to  any  such  extent  as  that  you  shall  cany  any  ad- 
ditional burdens.  And  yet  there  are  men  in  the  world  who  imagine 
themselves  to  be  set  apart  and  foreordained  to  murmur  and  repine. 
And  forever  they  see  the  dark  side  of  all  movements.  And  they  pray 
against  the  defections  of  the  churches.  They  talk  about  the  defections 
of  the  churches.  They  are  full  of  murmurings  and  repinings  about  the 
defections  of  the  churches.  They  are  so  full  of  other  men's  misdeeds 
and  supposed  faults,  that  they  have  little  spirit  left,  and  little  time  left, 
for  their  own  personal  edification  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  And  the 
Lord  says  to  these  heresy-hunting  grumblers,  "  What  is  that  to  thee  ? 
Follow  thou  me,  and  I  will  take  cai'e  of  heretics." 

Whatever  the  community  is  ;  whatever  may  be  the  fate  of  nations; 
whether  wars  are  coming  or  revolutions  are  impending ;  whether  the 
cause  of  the  common  people  seems  to  be  in  darkness  and  to  be  grow- 
ing worse,  as  in  the  great  reaction  of  1848  ;  or  whether  all  combina- 
tions seem  to  point  forward  to  the  history  of  the  laboring  men,  and  of 
the  common  people,  and  the  mass  of  mankind  are  prosj^erous  in  the' 
prospect — whatever  may  be  the  condition  of  the  community,  your 
prior  duty  is  to  follow  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  And  if  you  give  yoiu-- 
self  to  these  other  things,  not  ordained  to  be  a  prophet,  not  called  to 
be  a  leader,  Christ  says  to  you,  "  What  is  that  to  thee  ?  Follow  thou 
me." 

In  the  midst  of  all  convulsions,  in  the  midst  of  all  uncertainties, 
how  many  times  men  think  that  there  is  almost  no  use  in  trying  to  be 
good !  "  Who  knows,"  say  they,  "  which  way  to  go  ?  Ministera  are 
disputing ;  churches  are  worldly-minded ;  the  foundations  are  broken 
up ;  and  who  cares  for  holy  things  ?  A  man  might  as  well  cast 
his  lot  in  with  them,  and  take  things  as  he  finds  them."  Thou- 
sands and  thousands  of  men  have  been  almost  tempted  to  give  up 
serving  religion,  and  have  said,  "  Things  are  mixed  and  uncertain  ;.  bo 


324  FOLLOW  TEOU  ME. 

they  have  been  since  the  world  began ;  and  so  they  will  be  until  the 
the  world  ends ;  and  I  will  take  them  just  as  I  find  them,  and  enjoy 
myself."  In  other  words,  in  the  baldest  form,  it  is  saying,  "  O  Soul ! 
eat,  diink,  and  be  merry,  for  to-morrow  thou  diest."  There  are  a 
great  many  persons  who  are  discoui-aged,  and  who  feel  that  self-denial, 
and  humility,  and  painstaking,  and  real  personal  discipline,  are  of  no 
use ;  and  say,  "  When  nobody  else  tries  to  live  so,  why  should  I  so 
live  ?"  But  Christ  says  to  every  man,  "  Follow  thou  me."  Let  the 
pope  go  ;  let  the  bishop  go  ;  let  the  priest  go  ;  let  the  minister  go ; 
let  the  church  go.  To  each  man  for  himself,  and  to  every  man  on  the 
globe,  the  Lord  says,  "  Be  faithful  personally  to  me." 

But  this  subject  may  be  brought  home  even  more  closely  than  in 
these  general  ways.  There  are  those  who  are  obscured  and  perplexed 
in  the  disputes  that  obtain  in  respect  to  ordinances  and  doctrines  and 
orders  within  the  church.  They  are  the  prey  of  men  who  desire  to 
make  proselytes.  They  are  pulled  hither  and  thither..  They  are 
exhorted  by  this  one  or  that  one.  They  defer  the  work  of  personal 
holiness  until  they  shall  have  settled  these  absolutely  unsettleable  ques- 
tions in  respect  to  the  authority,  the  organization,  the  order,  of  the 
instruments  of  religion — namely,  the  outward  churches. 

There  be  many  persons  who  will  tell  you  that  their  faith  has  almost 
failed  them.  They  have  heard  so  much  and  seen  so  much  of  disagree- 
ment, and  the  whole  question  of  the  authority  of  the  church,  and  of 
its  various  impositions  and  duties,  is  in  such  a  condition  in  then*  mind, 
that  they  are  almost  tempted  to  give  up  the  whole  matter  in  disgust. 
Of  those  who,  in  the  providence  of  God,  are  surrounded  by  influences 
which  stir  up  men's  attention  to  external  order,  there  are  many  who 
are  caught  in  these  infinitesimal  disputes  about  infinitesimal  things — 
about  colors ;  about  the  cut  and  form  of  garments  ;  about  the  order  of 
coming  in  or  going  out ;  about  the  points  of  the  compass  (for  it  is  im- 
mensely important  in  the  salvation  of  a  man's  soul  that  he  should  read 
with  his  face  toward  the  right  point  of  the  compass).  They  are  so 
disturbed  as  to  whether  the  right  hand  was  put  on  the  right  head,  and 
whether  this  right  head  put  its  right  hand  on  somebody  else's  right 
head ;  they  are  so  disturbed  as  to  the  whole  outward  circumstances 
which  i-elate  to  religion,  that  they  are  in  danger  of  quite  forgetting  the 
Lord  that  bought  them.  Oh !  what  matters  it  whether  yom-  mother's 
name  was  Gates,  or  Bates,  or  Page,  or  Smith?  What  matters  it 
whether  she  was  nearly  related  to  such  and  such  an  one  or  not? 
What  matters  it  whether  you  know  who  she  was  or  not  ?  She  is  your 
mother,  and  that  is  enough.  The  main  thing  is  that  the  heart  and  the 
love  which  you  bear  to  her  tell  you  everything.  Strip  off  the  whole 
.history  ;  let  what  will  happen  externally,  it  will  be  all  as  nothing.     It 


FOLLOW  Tnou  ME.  325 

will  not  move  nor  disturb  the  central  impulse  of  your  life.  A  child 
loves  its  mother,  not  because  she  was  of  this  or  that  family,  or  of  this 
or  that  connection,  but  simply  from  what  she  is  to  the  child. 

Let  those  settle  these  questions  who  may  or  must,  who  will  or  can ; 
but  let  every  man  who  stands  in  this  great  flurry  of  ecclesiology,  let 
every  man  who  stands  perplexed  in  bat-like  twilight,  seeking  to  fly, 
remember  that  the  main  thing,  after  all,  is  that  the  heart  shall  be  in- 
flamed with  love  toward  the  Lord  Jesus  Chiist,  so  that,  as  the  child 
follows  the  mother,  every  one  shall  follow  him,  and  be  perfectly  cer- 
tain that  in  the  last  day,  when  we  rise,  in  the  forefront  of  the  uni- 
verse he  will  stand ;  and  let  us  remember  that  if  we  have  followed  him, 
and  our  hearts  have  felt  his  heart  all  through  life,  no  matter  what 
priests  say  about  us,  no  matter  Avhat  churches  say  about  us,  the  words 
will  come  to  us  from  him,  "  Well  done ;  well  done." 

And  in  respect  to  these  disturbing  influences  where  the  providence 
of  God  has  cast  you,  I  do  not  say,  "  Go  out  of  that  church  and  go 
into  a  more  simple  one."  Let  every  man  abide  in  the  calling  wherein 
he  teas  called.  As  respects  all  these  external  things,  do  not  busy 
yourself  about  them ;  do  not  listen  to  them  ;  do  not  cai'e  for  them 
"  Follow  me,"  says  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  You  are  to  make  it  the 
business  of  your  life  to  follow  Christ  and  to  love  him. 

Parents  often  stand  in  the  light  of  their  own  good,  and  even 
weaken  theu*  moral  power,  by  an  undue  and  improper  anxiety  for  their 
own  childi'en.  There  may  be  an  anxiety  for  one's  children  which  shall 
leave  the  impression  on  the  child's  mind  that  you  have  no  faith  in 
God.  Else  why  such  anxiety  ?  Parents  may  be  so  anxious  for  the 
welfare  of  their  children  that  they  have  very  little  i)eace,  very  little 
joy,  very  little  trust  in  God.  In  order  that  our  hearts  may  ring  out 
to  our  children  in  the  sweet  music  of  true  religion,  those  hearts  must 
not  be  touched.  If  you  lay  your  hand  upon  a  bell  when  you  strike  it, 
it  is  mufiled,  and  the  sound  does  not  come  forth.  Take  off"  your  hand, 
and  everything,  and  let  the  bell  sound  out  sweet  and  clear.  The  heart 
must  not  be  mufiled  by  these  aiixicties  and  fears  and  torments. 

"To  be  sure,"  it  is  said,  "the  parent  who  loves  the  child  must  be 
anxious  that  it  shall  do  well."  Yes ;  but  hope  is  a  better  counsellor 
than  fear,  for  parents.  It  is  just  as  easy  for  your  mother  to  say,  "  The 
God  that  has  taken  care  of  me  will  take  care  of  my  children.  I  will 
trust  him  who  has  never  left  me  nor  forsaken  me,  and  who  has  given 
me  the  right  to  cast  my  care  on  him  because  he  careth  for  me.  Not 
my  vigilance,  not  my  skill,  not  my  wisdom,  will  I  trust.  I  acknowl- 
edge that  I  do  not  know  how  to  take  care  of  these  my  little  ones ;  but 
God  knows,  and  I  will  leave  them  in  his  hands."  INIy  dear  friend?, 
wonderful  is  the  way  of  God  with  children.    How  many  childi-en  there 


326  FOLLOW  THOU  ME. 

are  that  come  up  in  spite  of  their  parents !  How  many  parents  there 
are  who  do  enough  to  destroy,  it  would  seem,  the  very  possibility  of 
their  children  ever  coming  to  manliness  and  integrity,  but  whose  chil- 
di'en  escape  in  spite  of  parental  perversion,  and  come  up  to  honorable 
and  useful  manhood!  And  how  many  children  are  surrounded  by 
parents  who,  though  they  are  exemplary,  are  overborne  by  anxiety, 
and  who  are  afraid,  not  only  of  the  devil  in  general,  but  ot  every- 
thing in  particular — afraid  of  the  least  thing ;  afraid  of  the  shak- 
ing of  the  leaf;  afraid  of  exj^osing  their  children  to  the  slightest 
temptation  ;  and  who  bring  up  those  children  in  such  a  way  as  to  pro- 
duce the  impression  on  the  child's  mind  that  the  parent  is  burdened 
and  untrustful,  and  has  but  little  help  from  above.  That  the  parent 
expects  that  there  is  going  to  be  some  comfort  hereafter,  the  child  is 
led  to  believe  ;  but  there  is  no  impression  made  upon  the  child's  mind 
that  there  is  any  expectation  on  the  part  of  the  parent  of  immediate 
relief.  And  to-day  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  stands  in  eveiy  nursery,  and 
by  the  side  of  the  cradle  of  every  loving  mother,  and  of  eveiy  Chris- 
tian father,  and  says,  "  What  is  that  to  thee  ?  follow  thou  me."  And  if 
you  follow  Christ,  the  fruits  of  that  following — sweet  peace,  and  rich 
content,  and  unbounded  trust  in  God — will  be  the  very  elements,  with- 
out any  wisdom  or  management  on  your  part,  by  which  your  children 
will  be  brought  out  right.  Do  not,  therefore,  let  your  children  disturb 
your  settled  peace.  Do  not  let  your  trust  be  sacrificed  through  an 
unwise  anxiety  about  those  who  are  under  your  charge.  Understand 
that  the  love  of  Christ  in  your  soul  is  the  best  means  of  bringing  your 
children  in  the  way  they  should  go  ;  let  them  see  the  evidences  and 
results  of  true  holiness  in  you.  Your  gentleness,  your  forgiveness, 
your  patience,  your  faith  in  the  invisible,  your  trust  in  an  unknown 
and  unseen  God,  will  be  more  preaching  to  them  than  all  the  didactic 
instruction  which  you  can  give  them — though  this  should  not  be 
omitted. 

So  it  is  with  teachers  of  all  kinds,  with  preachers  pre-eminently, 
who  are  the  teachers  of  the  Lord,  and  with  all  who  labor  for  men's 
religious  education.  They  are  in  danger  of  emphasizing  exetrior 
things,  and  forgetting  the  true  interior  and  spiritual  elements.  In  all 
such  instruction,  personal  piety  is  the  power  of  teaching.  It  is  that 
which  a  man  is  between  his  soul  and  God  that  gives  him  cogency,  and, 
under  the  divine  pi'ovidence,  brings  forth  fruit  in  others.  It  is  quite 
possible  for  men  to  be  busy  with  the  outwardness  of  their  work,  for 
them  to  be  given  to  a  secular  administration  of  it,  and  yet  be  consci- 
entious, painstaking,  faithful  persons.  But  they  will  have  very  little 
comfort  in  it.     And  Christ  would  warn  every  such  one,  saying,  of  all 


FOLL 0  W  THO  IT  ME.  327 

this  ontwavtl  lilstoiy,   ""^Yhat  is  that  to  thee?     This  is  thy  business — 
follow  thou  me." 

It  Avould  be  a  word  of  caution,  too,  for  busybodies  in  spintual 
things — for  there  are  busybodies  in  spiritual  things  as  really  as  in 
things  social  and  temporal.  There  are  men  who  have  adopted  the 
cant  words  of  the  day,  and  who  are  all  the  time  talking  about  saving 
mens  souls.  The  moment  they  are  converted,  they  think  that  means 
that  they  are  to  be  saving  souls.  And  they  pray  about  saving  souls. 
And  they  exhort  to  the  salvation  of  souls.  They  are  constantly  nin- 
ning  around  and  trying  to  save  mens  souls.  Christ  would  say  to 
them,  "  Save  your  own  souls  first."  To  do  that,  needs  a  great  deal  of 
care.  It  is  far  more  important  that  a  man  should  be  built  up  in  a  holy 
and  devout  and  deeply  spiritual  life,  than  that  he  should  be  running 
round  for  volunteers  long  before  he  himself  understands  the  spiritual 
drill.  And  when  men  have  been  consecrated  to  the  work  of  doing 
good,  it  is  far  more  important  that  they,  having  begun  a  Christian  life, 
should  be  built  up,  than  that  there  should  be  gathered  in  raw  recruits 
who  know  nothing.  There  be  those  who  are  overloading  the  church 
with  crude  material ;  and  the  church,  like  an  overloaded  wain,  gi'oans 
with  this  crude  material,  which  is  in  danger  of  spoiling  in  keeping. 
There  be  those  who  seem  to  think  that  the  great  work  of  the  ministry 
is  to  be  the  alarming  and  converting  of  men,  and  the  saving  of  their 
souls. 

Now,  the  way  of  salvation  is  through  sanctification,  and  he  who 
would  have  the  cure  of  souls  should  understand  that  to  make  men  holy 
who  have  begun  to  be  Christians,  is,  among  other  things,  the  most 
providential  way  of  saving  those  who  are  not  professors  of  religion. 
While  I  would  not  do  anything  which  would  take  from  you  en- 
terprise ;  while,  within  due  bounds,  and  at  discretion,  it  is  the  duty  of 
every  Christian  man,  as  God  gives  him  opportunity,  to  save  men, 
snatching  them  as  brands  from  the  burning,  if  they  are  in  extreme 
peril,  and  by  kind  words,  at  proper  times,  win  them  to  religious  things ; 
and  while  I  would  not  lighten  the  motives  to  this,  I  would  caution  you 
against  making  your  religion  to  stand  in  this  running  about  to  save 
mens  souls.  Chjist  would  say  to  you,  under  such  circumstances, 
"  What  is  that  to  thee  ?  Follow  thou  me."  Practice  for  a  little  while 
before  you  begin  to  preach  to  others. 

That  which  is  ti*ue  in  all  the  instances  which  I  have  stated,  is  still 
more  signally  true  in  relation  to  Christian  sects  into  which  the  church 
of  Christ  is  divided.  I  have  never  been  of  those  who  thought  sects 
were,  in  and  of  themselves,  evil.  Where  they  have  been  exploded  and 
formed  by  explosion ;  where  they  have,  by  misdirected  assault,  been 
rendered  bitter;  where  they  have  been  selfish  and  exclusive,  there  baa 


328  FOLLOW  Tnou  ME. 

been  great  miscliief  in  connection  with  this  subdivision  of  the  great 
body  of  men  in  Christian  life.  But  it  has  been  because  the  sects  have 
allowed  themselves  to  use  the  malign  elements  as  instruments  in  their 
Christian  warfare.  The  mere  fact  of  the  subdivision  of  the  multi- 
tude of  men  into  -different  organizations,  with  different  politics  and 
governments,  and  even  different  modes  of  administration,  is  not  in  it- 
self singular.  It  is  inevitable.  You  can  no  more  make  them  alike  than 
you  can  make  any  two  towns  alike  in  their  modes  of  governing,  or  any 
two  families  alike  in  then'  methods  of  administration.  For,  as  the 
families  in  a  neighborhood  are  held  to  great  generic  rules — those,  for 
instance,  of  truth,  and  honor,  and  industry,  and  personal  purity,  but, 
within  these  generics  vary  infinitely  in  their  modes  of  administering 
the  economies  of  the  household ;  so  in  the  families  that  spring  up  under 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  this  world,  there  will  be  infinite  diversities. 
And  where  the  populations  are  large,  there  is  no  reason  why  those  who 
are  of  one  mind — that  is,  those  who  are  in  elective  affinity — and  who 
are  thrown  together,  should  not  cooperate  with  each  other  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  affiiirs  of  the  church,  as  seems  wise  to  them.  Sects 
are  not  in  themselves,  but  only  in  the  unwise  modes  of  their  adminis- 
tration, mischievous,  and  evil,  and  to  be  dei^lored. 

You  will  never  have  one  church  in  the  sense  in  which  men  are 
looking  for  it.  Blessed  be  God  for  that.  One  church  such  as  men 
are  looking  for  would  be  a  very  stupid  thing.  It  would  be  the  ex- 
tinction of  that  individual,  sharp  personality  out  of  which  comes  vari- 
ety. And  the  riches  of  mankind  are  in  variations.  All  growths  tend 
to  diversity.  All  development  is  in  the  direction  of  complexity.  And 
persons  who  are  capable  of  being  redticed  to  absolute  unity  are  person- 
ally very  low  in  the  scale — very  near  to  zero.  Otherwise  they  could 
not  coalesce,  and  come  into  perfect  unity.  And  all  those  great  sects 
that  suppose  themselves  to  be  units,  are  not.  There  are  materials  for 
diversity  within  them.  They  are  full  of  unexplored  and  unexpressed 
forces.  They  are  full  of  undelivered  or  undeveloped  variations  of  be- 
lief. They  are  held  in  reserve,  and  kept  down.  They  are  either  like 
winter,  when  all  seeds  and  roots  are  waiting  to  grow  by-and-by,  but 
are  not  growing ;  or,  they  are  like  magazines  that  are  stored  full  of 
mischievous  missiles  that  by-and-by  will  be  touched  off.  There  is  no 
such  thing  as  unity,  there  never  was,  and  there  never  will  be. 

The  word  of  the  Lord,  therefore,  to  those  who  are  with  sects 
that  are  seeking  to  destroy  themselves  and  build  up  the  one  spirit  of 
this,  that  or  the  other  organization,  is,  "  What  is  that  to  thee  ?  "  If  men 
like  to  be  baptized  by  immersion,  let  them.  If  men  like  to  be  baptized 
by  sprinkling,  let  them.  If  men  like  to  have  preachers  ordained  by 
bishops,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  let  them.     And  if  men  like  to  have 


FOLLOW  THOU  ME.  329 

preachers  that  never  had  a  bisliop's  hand  on  them,  let  them.  "  Follow 
thou  me,"  says  Clnist.  Let  every  sect,  instead  of  attempting  to  bring 
itself  nearer  to  God,  and  making  itself  more  acceptable  to  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  by  absurd  historical  arguments,  do  what  every  horticul- 
turalist  is  obliged  to  do.  It  is  quite  in  vain  for  him  to  boast  of  the 
superiority  of  his  fruits  and  flowers,  or  to  assert  tha|;  his  orchard  or 
garden  is  better  than  anybody  else's.  He  must  bring  forward  flowers 
and  fruits  that  the  judges  will  say  are  better  than  those  of  others.  And 
then  it  does  not  matter  what  name  you  put  on  them, or  whether  you 
put  any  name  on  them  at  all.  "  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them," 
says  every  horticultural  committee ;  and  so  said  Christ. 

Now,  if  it  is  understood  that  that  is  the  best  sect  which  makes  the 
best  men ;  if  we  are  at  liberty  to  call  on  the  different  sects  to  show  the 
highest  results  of  their  training,  then  I  am  satisfied.  Let  them  be 
judged  according  to  their  merits.  And  if  the  Roman  Catholics  can 
prove  that  they  make  better  men  than  we  Protestants  do,  that  ends 
the  argument  with  me.  I  am  going  in  for  the  sect  that  makes  the 
greatest  number  of  men  of  the  best  sort.  Bring  in  your  Calvinists ; 
and  if  they  make  magnificent,  strong  men,  but  make  only  a  few  of 
them,  and  crush  all  the  weak  for  the  sake  of  making  these  few  almost 
supernaturally  strong  men,  it  is  not  my  ideal  of  a  church.  But  show 
me  the  sect  that  makes  the  largest  number  of  men  high  and  noble,  and 
I  am  for  that.  If  it  be  Calvinism,  with  its  "  five  points  "  accuminated, 
and  sharper  than  the  "  pricks  "  against  which  Paul  kicked,  I  will  take 
it.  Or,  if  it  be  Arminianisra  I  will  take  it.  I  do  not  cai-e  for  argu- 
ments. Go  away  with  your  texts.  Show  me  the  men  that  you  have 
made.  Some  of  you  drill  by  Upton's  tactics,  and  some  of  you  by  the 
French  tactics ;  some  of  you  employ  one  system,  and  some  another;  but 
I  do  not  care  whose  tactics  you  drill  by,  let  me  see  your  men  fight ; 
and  after  the  campaign  I  will  tell  you  which  turns  out  the  best  soldiers. 
I  will  admit  that  drill  has  something  to  do  with  these  things  ;  but  I 
declare  that  that  army  which  wins  victories  oftenest,  and  on  the  broad- 
est scale,  is  composed  of  the  best  material.  And  though  I  believe  that 
some  sects  are  far  better  than  others,  and  that  some  views  of  doctrine 
are  far  more  likely  to  produce  good  results  than  others  ;  and  though  in 
laying  the  foundations  of  a  sect  I  should  be  very  careful  in  making  se- 
lections of  men  and  measures  and  views  of  truth ;  yet,  after  all,  the  true 
test  as  to  the  value  of  the  different  sects,  as  they  exist,  is  that  which 
determines  which  has  produced  the  best  results.  Tliose  sects  which 
produce  the  greatest  number  of  eminent  Chiistian  men,  those  sects 
which  fill  the  garden  of  the  Lord  most  abundantly  with  the  best  fruits, 
are  the  wisest  and  most  efficient  in  their  administration. 

K  that  responsibility  were  brought  to  beai'  on  the  sects,  how  great 


330  FOLLOW  THOU  ME.    ■ 

a  change  there  would  be !  How  we  should  cease  boasting !  How  we 
should  cease  arraying  ourselves,  with  external  arguments,  one  against 
another !  How  we  should  feel  that  the  Lord  had  said  to  every  man, 
whether  he  be  layman  or  minister,  "Follow  thou  me  !" 

Following  Christ  personally,  individually,  as  well  as  collectively,  is 
our  great  business — not  following  him  in  a  certain  way ;  not  following 
him  by  given  services  and  ordinances  and  ceremonies ;  not  following 
him  in  externals  ;  but  following  him  in  trust,  in  joy,  in  peace,  in  hope, 
in  love,  in  faith  in  the  invisible.  And  they  are  the  best  Christians  who, 
following  Christ  thus,  follow  him  the  most  closely. 

This  is  a  severe  test ;  it  is  a  different  test  from  that  by  which  men 
usually  measure  themselves ;  and  it  is  a  test  which,  if  strictly  ajiplied, 
would  destroy  sectarians,  mostly. 

May  God  grant  that  we  may  have  this  test  by  which  to  measure 
ourselves.  We  are  not  what  we  are  by  reason  of  our  knowledge,  nor  by 
reason  of  our  will-poAver,  but  by  the  degree  in  which  we  represent  and 
reflect  the  mind  and  will  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

Christian  brethren,  you  are  not  safe  because  you  are  in  this  or  that 
fold.  You  are  not  safe  because  of  any  covenants  or  promises.  You 
are  not  safe  because  of  the  fulfillment  of  any  duties  in  this  or  that  di- 
rection. Your  whole  hope,  your  whole  safety,  lies  in  this,  that  you  are 
following  Christ,  and  that  his  spirit  and  your  spirit  are  in  such  sympa- 
thy with  each  other  that  he  lives  in  you,  and  you  live  in  him. 

And  in  this  spirit  of  following  Christ,  let  us  gather  together,  this 
morning,  as  we  propose  to  do  for  the  last  time  this  summer  as  a  church, 
and  as  Christian  brethren  of  every  name,  to  accept  Christ  as  our  Mas- 
ter, our  Guide,  our  Joy,  and  our  everlasting  Reward.  I  affectionately 
invite  all  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Chiist  in  sincerity  and  in  truth,  and 
who  put  their  whole  hope  of  salvation  in  the  faith  of  his  love  to  their 
souls,  to  tarry  with  us,  if  it  be  convenient  for  them,  and  partake  with 
us  of  the  emblems  of  his  dying  love. 


FOLLOW  THOU  ME.  331 

PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 


We  acknowledge  thee,  Almighty  God,  to  be  our  Governor,  Tqou  art  our 
Teacher,  and  thee  we  would  obey  and  follow.  We  confess  that  we  have  not 
followed  thee  even  according  to  our  knowledge ;  that  we  have  turned  aside, 
and  that  we  do  every  day  turn  aside,  from  tlie  right  way.  Our  own  con- 
science condemns  us ;  and  thou  art  greater  than  our  conscience.  Even  by 
the  feeble  light  of  our  own  knowledge,  we  see  the  better  way,  while  we  are 
pursuing  the  worse.  But,  how  much  higher  than  ours  is  thy  conception  of 
that  which  is  just,  and  pure,  and  true,  and  righteous.  If  thou  wert  to  meas- 
ure us  by  that  same  law  by  which  thou  dost  measure  thyself;  if  thou  shouldst 
account  with  us,  as  with  thine  own  angels  in  heaven,  who  of  us  could  stand? 
We  are  as  little  children  in  the  presence  of  those  who  are  grown  in  knowl- 
edge and  experience.  We  know  not  anything,  and  are  filled  with  mistakes, 
and  easily  run  into  transgressions  and  into  conscious  and  purposed  errors. 
And  we  need  every  day  thy  forbearing  love.  We  need  thy  patience  and  thy 
forgiveness  in  which  hath  been,  in  every  age,  the  hope  of  the  world.  Thou 
dost  not  delight  to  destroy.  Thou  dost  delight  to  save,  to  make  alive, 
those  that  are  dead  ;  to  cleanse  those  tliat  are  impure ;  to  make  whole  the 
wounded  ;  to  go  after  the  lost ;  to  reclaim  them ;  to  seek  and  rescue  them. 
And  we  rejoice  that  thy  work  has  not  expended  itself,  and  that  it  is  not  a 
power  unused ;  and  that  thy  truth,  and  all  the  means  by  which  it  is  surround- 
ed, are  yet  living  instruments,  and  that  thou  dost  own  them,  and  bless  them. 
And  we  behold  thy  churches  built  up,  and  multitudes  reclaimed  from  evil, 
and  the  ways  of  the  Lord  thronged.  And  we  rejoice  to  believe  that  thou 
wilt  never  leave  thyself  without  a  seed  to  serve  thee. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  this  morning,  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy  blessing  to 
rest  upon  the  service  of  the  sanctuary,  in  thine  own  midst.  Hear  the  voices 
of  all  that  are  supplicating  thee  this  morning  in  their  own  behalf,  or  in  the 
behalf  of  those  who  are  near  and  dear  to  them.  Accept  the  thanksgivings 
of  those  who  offer  thanks.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  there  may  be  a  wil- 
ling heart  to  make  confession,  on  the  part  of  all  burdened  consciences.  May 
that  distance  which  care  and  worldliness  puts  between  our  thoughts  and 
thee  this  day,  be  quite  dissipated ;  and  may  all  of  us  be  able  to  draw  very 
near  to  thee. 

And  we  pray,  O  Lord,  that  we  may  have  some  sense  of  the  great  and 
wondrous  love  wherewith  thou  hast  loved  us,  and  with  which  ihou  dost 
love  us.  May  we  feel  that  we  are  dwelling  in  the  midst  of  thy  divine 
thoughts  of  mercy,  that  we  are  nourished  by  thee,  and  that  the  whole  life 
which  we  have,  and  all  its  power,  of  pleasure  and  of  joy,  is  of  thee,  and  is 
daily  sustained  by  thee.  And  may  it  be  but  a  little  thing  for  us  to  serve 
thee,  that  art  serving  us  continually. 

We  pray  that  thy  blessing  may  rest  upon  all  the  families  that  are  repre- 
sented in  this  congregation.  If  there  be  any  absent  from  us  to  day,  wilt 
thou  fill  them  with  thoughts  of  mercy.  And  as  their  hearts  turn  again  to 
this  place,  and  to  all  the  remembrances  of  scenes  gone  by  in  days  past,  we 
pray  that  the  Spirit  of  the  sanctuary  may  be  wafted  to  them,  and  that  they 
may  partake  of  the  blessings  which  we  have  in  coming  here.  Bless,  we 
pray  thee,  wanderers  who  are  upon  the  sea  or  upon  the  land,  near  or  far, 
and  preserve  them  in  thy  good  providence.  Speed  them  in  their  errands, 
and  bring  them  back  again  to  the  hearts  that  love  them. 

We  pray  for  all  that  are  strangers  to  day  in  our  midst,  in  strange  places,  with 
new  associations.  Grant  that  there  may  be  the  old  love,  the  blessed  spirit  of 
God,  that  long  hath  known  them.  May  they  find  thee  the  same  here  to  day. 
May  their  prayers  arise  with  acceptance  before  thee.  May  they  rejoice  in 
the  sacred  songs  of  thy  sanctuary,  and  find  this  the  house  of  God,  and  there- 
fore a  home  for  their  hearts.    And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless 


332  FOLLOW  THOU  ME. 

all  our  citizeHS  of  every  name,  that  worship  thee  this  day.  Grant  that  all 
those  who  are  in  error  may  more  and  more  see  the  truth. 

Bless  this  nation.  Bless  all  the  states  and  their  governments.  Bless  the 
government  of  the  United  States.  Grant  that  thy  servant,  the  President, 
may  walk  in  the  spirit  of  wisdom.  May  he  fear  God,  and  do  justly.  We 
pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  who  are  associated  with  him  in  counsel.  Bless 
the  legislature  of  the  nation.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  fidelity,  and  equity, 
and  purity  may  be  the  stability  of  our  times. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  nations  of  the  earth,  and  gather  them, 
according  to  thy  promises,  at  last,  into  a  great  realm  of  peace,  from  which 
are  banished  ignorance,  and  superstition,  and  all  wrong.  Grant  that  at  last 
the  birthright  of  the  world  may  come,  and  Christ  descend  to  reign  for  a 
thousand  years. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise  for  ever  and  for  ever.    ATrien. 


XIX. 

War. 


INVOCATON. 


July  17,  1870. 

LOOK  forth  from  thine  high  and  holy  place,  our  Father,  not  to  over- 
whelm us  with  thy  brightness,  nor  with  the  glory  of  thy  power,  but 
to  lend  to  us  something  of  thy  strength,  and  of  thy  goodness,  and  of  thy 
purity,  that  we  may  come  up  into  all  the  blessedness  of  sonship  ;  and  that, 
fear  departing,  we  may  have  courage  to  say,  in  sincerity  and  in  truth,  Our 
Father  which  art  in  heaven.  Though  though  art  in  heaven,  thou  art  every- 
where ;  and  around  us  is  thine  arm  of  providence ;  and  before  us  thine  eye 
of  omniscience.  Thy  power  is  oyer  all,  and  under  all,  and  before  and  behind, 
a  guard  and  a  defence.  We  rejoice  that  we  may  live  in  thee.  And  so  help 
us  this  morning  to  recognize  our  relations  to  thee  that  we  shall  have  glad- 
ness of  heart  and  bring  our  reverential  offering  with  cheerfulness  and  with  all 
the  confidence  of  love  and  its  sweet  formalities.  And  bless  us,  wc  pray  thee, 
in  every  service  of  devotion  and  exercise  of  instruction,  that  all  things  may 
be  done  decently  and  in  order,  for  Christ's  sake.  Amen. 
19. 


f 


WAE. 


"  From  whence  come  wars  and  fightings  among  you  ?  come  they  not 
hence,  even  of  your  lusts  that  war  in  your  members?  Ye  lust,  and  have 
not ;  ye  kill,  and  desire  to  have,  and  cannot  obtain  ;  ye  fight  and  war,  and 
yet  ye  have  not,  because  ye  ask.  not." — James  IV.  1,  2. 


This  is  a  description  of  the  turbulence  of  man,  regarded  simply  as 
an  animal.  There  is  a  latent  implication  here,  also,  of  man  as  a  spir- 
itual being.  As  an  animal,  he  is  restless,  avaricious,  dishonest,  plun- 
dering, muideriug,  forever  desiring,  and  yet  unsatisfied  in  his  desu'es, 
bc(!ause  his  lower  nature  never  can  be  at  rest,  but,  like  the  troubled  sea, 
casts  up  mire  and  dirt.  "Because  ye  ask  not."  Because  the  spirtual 
side  of  man,  which  derives  its  being  fi-om  God,  and  all  the  plentitude 
of  its  enjoyment  from  si^iritual  things,  through  prayer  and  faith,  does 
not  come  into  activity,  men  are  unhappy. 

Tins  is  James'  philosophical  analysis  of  the  source  of  war.  Vio- 
lence and  physical  force  in  the  management  of  men  arise  from  their 
excessive  animal  conditions. 

It  is  true,  as  a  matter  of  history,  that  wars  have  mainly  sprung 
from  the  passions.  Only  now  and  then,  and  less  and  less  frequently 
as  we  go  backward  on  the  path  of  time,  have  wars  represented  princi- 
ples ;  and  even  the  principles  that  they  have  represented  are  the  lowest, 
and  the  nearest  to  that  which  is  carnal,  of  any. 

The  necessity  of  force  in  this  world  is  in  the  ratio  of  the  strength 
of  m(Mi's  lower  nature.  That  part  which  is  animal  and  physical  must, 
at  last,  for  government,  go  back  to  force. 

JNIan  is  a  compound.  Reason  and  moral  sense  are,  as  it  were,  set 
upon  another  organization — an  animal  and  physical  one.  So  the  apos- 
tle Paul,  by  a  figure  of  speech,  represents  man  as  being  dual ;  as  being 
two  men  in  one  ;  as  being  a  carnal  man  and  a  spiritual  man.  The 
spiritual  man  is  superimposed  u])on  the  basilar  or  carnal  man. 

]\Ian  is  a  rational  being,  and  he  is  also  an  irrational  animal ;  and  it 
is  quite  possible  for  him  to  act  in  either  of  these  characters  as  separated 
from  the  other.  It  is  quite  possible  for  a  man  to  act  as  an  animal  with 
almost  no  guidance  from  his  moral  sense,  or  from  his  reason.   It  is  also 

SuNKAY  MnuNiNG,  July  17,  1870.  LESSON:  R01IAX8  XIII.  HYMNS  (ri^mouth  Colleo" 
tion):  N08.  199,  bll,  lUil. 


334-  WAH. 

possible  for  a  man  to  supercede  the  instincts  of  his  lower  nature,  anc 
act  entii'ely  from  rational  and  moral  considerations. 

In  the  one  character,  men  will  govern  themselves  by  reason  and ' 
the  moral  sentiments — by  the  higher  motives.  If  this  is  not  possible, 
then  they  must  fall  down,  for  government,  to  that  range,  or  to  that 
plane,  where  they  can  be  reached.  It  is  far  better  to  govern  men  by 
the  voluntary  instincts  of  then*  moral  nature ;  but  if  that  cannot  be, 
it  is  far  better  than  that  they  should  go  ungoverned,  that  they  should 
be  governed  by  their  intellectual  forces ;  by  reasons  and  persuasions 
addressed  to  their  higher  feelings.  But  if  they  are  not  susceptible  in 
either  their  moral  or  their  intellectual  nature,  it  is  far  better  then  that 
they  should  be  ungoverned,  that  they  should  be  governed  by  appeals 
to  their  selfishness.  But  if  they  cannot  be  reached  by  such  appeals, 
rather  than  that  they  should  not  be  governed,  it  is  better  that  they 
should  be  governed  by  direct  appeals  to  the  flesh  by  pain- -by  the 
actual  compression  of  force.  That  is  the  lowest  and  meanest  way  to 
govern  men.    It  is  only  better  than  no  government  at  all. 

But  men  must  take  their  choice.  For  government  is  of  God.  Not 
by  decree  is  it  made  obligatory,  but  it  is  organically  necessary.  That 
is,  the  structure  of  the  globe  is  such  that  without  government  it  could 
not  cohere,  and  order  could  not  exist.  Government  there  must  be ; 
but  what  kind  of  government  it  is  to  be,  will  depend  entirely  upon  the 
susceptibility  of  men  in  any  age  and  nation  to  the  different  motives 
which  may  be  addressed  to  them.  Those  who  are  so  far  civilized  and 
Christianized  that  they  are  susceptible  to  higher  motives,  will  be 
furthest  removed  from  the  law  of  force  ;  but  if  men  are  so  animal  and 
bestial  in  then-  inclinations,  and  in  then-  whole  state,  that  they  are  sus- 
ceptible to  no  other  influence  but  that  of  force,  then  force  must  be 
employed.  And  it  is  just  as  rational,  just  as  normal,  as  it  is  necessary 
and  indispensable.  And  all  the  sentimentality  about  not  using  force, 
where  force  is  the  only  thing  that  can  be  used,  is  surplusage  and 
Avaste.  I  do  not  believe  in  using  force  if  you  can  help  it  j  but  I  do 
believe  in  using  it  when  you  cannot  help  it. 

Lately,  there  is  much  said  against  using  the  rod  in  the  family  and 
in  schools ;  and  it  is  only  an  extension  of  that  to  find  fault  about  the 
police  in  cities,  and  to  teach  that  a  higher  view  of  man  should  lead  us 
to  withdraw  all  force  from  our  cities.  A  pretty  time  we  should  have 
in  New  York  Avithout  our  police.  A  pretty  time  we  have  with  them ; 
and  how  much  more  we  should  have  pretty  time  without  them !  And 
the  same  thing  is  extended  to  the  nation.  Armies  are  said  to  be  cruel. 
Yes,  they  are  cruel.  The  only  cruder  thing  than  an  army,  is  a  nation 
that  has  no  army,  and  is  uncivilized,  beastly  and  savage.  The  law  of 
force  is  the  bottom  necessity,  and  men  can  take  their  choice  as  to 


WAR.  835 

whether  they  will  come  within  the  reach  of  it  or  not.  If  they  do  not 
like  it,  then  let  them  go  up.  Or,  if  they  will  not  go  up,  let  them 
not  complain  that  there  is  that  omnipotent  decree  at  the  bottom  which 
holds  men  by  governing  and  coercing  them. 

Force  is  therefore  to  be  used  until  you  can  do  better. 

But  the  law  of  Christian  philosophy  in  regard  to  the  use  of  force 
is  not  the  ultimate  discipline,  but  simply  a  preparatory  one.  Use  it 
until  you  can  develop  instincts  higher  than  that  reaches.  Then,  as 
soon  as  possible,  dispense  with  it.  But  until  you  can  get  some  other 
motive-power,  force  is  legitimate  and  wholesome — most  wholesome — 
in  this  world,  to  those  who  least  want  it  and  most  need  it. 

Whether  that  time  has  come  in  the  history  of  the  world  in  which 
force  can  be  laid  aside,  as  some  poetic  men,  some  sentimentalists,  some 
philanthropists  think,  is  a  simple  question  of  speculation.  I  do  not 
think  that  time  has  come — not  by  generations  yet.  The  law  of  force, 
whether  as  applied  in  the  household,  in  the  school,  in  the  municipal 
police,  or  in  the  police  of  nations — which  is  the  army — I  do  not  think 
can  yet  be  laid  aside.  I  do  not  think  the  time  has  come  by  some  hun- 
di'ed  }'ears  when  we  can  lay  aside  the  power  to  use  force  in  the  govern- 
ment of  individuals,  of  communities,  of  nations,  or  of  corelated  nations 
— the  globe. 

It  is  true  that  men  have  risen  as  individuals,  and  in  numbers 
greater,  probably,  than  ever  before  in  the  history  of  the  world,  into 
that  state  in  which  they  are  governed  wholly  by  motives  addressed  to 
their  reason,  to  their  moral  sense,  to  then*  affections,  and  to  their  inter- 
ests. There  are  thousands  of  men  living  here  to  whom  law  has  no 
relevancy.  They  have  gone  so  far  above  the  law  that  they  do  spon- 
taneously the  things  which  it  requires.  The  law  says,  "  Thou  shalt  not 
steal."  That  law  does  not  apply  to  you,  because,  seeing  the  moral 
beauty  of  honesty,  you  are  honest  I  do  not  steal,  not  because  there 
is  a  law  that  forbids  stealing,  but  because  I  have  no  inclination  to 
steal.  The  law  says,  "  Thou  shalt  not  murder ;"  but  my  neighbors 
are  safe  from  my  hand,  not  because  there  is  a  law  against  mui'der,  but 
because  I  have  another  law  written  in  myself  that  protects  them. 
There  is  a  law  that  men  shall  support  the  State ;  but  I  support  the 
State  by  my  taxes,  not  because  the  law  says  I  must,  but  because  I  love 
ray  country,  and  because  when  I  have  reasonable  ground  for  believing 
that  one-tenth  part  of  my  taxes  go  to  serve  the  country,  I  am  glad  to 
pay  them.  I  do  it  of  my  own  volition,  and  not  because  the  law  tells 
me  to.  The  law  simply  tells  me  how  much  I  shall  pay ;  and  I  am 
willing  to  pay  it  if  I  know  that  the  country  gets  one-tenth  part,  though 
the  otlu.r  nine  parts  aie  lost  on  scoundrels,  for  the  sake  of  serving  my 
day  and  generation — though  you  are  not  all  of  the  same  opinion. 


336  WAR. 

In  many  incHvIduals  a  gi'owtli  has  taken  place,  so  that  they  are  no 
longer  amenable  to  the  law  of  selfishness,  and  are  wholly  free  from  the 
law  of  force,  and  do  the  things  which  they  ought  to  do  from  consider- 
ations, not  of  necessity,  but  of  choice. 

In  certain  communities,  also,  far  more  than  in  others,  this  civiliza- 
tion has  taken  place.  There  are  some  nations  that  are  far  nearer  than 
others  to  that  time  in  which  they  will  be  able  either  to  sheath  the 
Bword,  or  lay  it  aside  wholly.  There  are  small  communities  which  are 
situated  so  that  temptations  to  violence  are  removed  from  them,  and 
so  that  the  inducements  to  peace  are  numerous  and  strong.  And  so, 
there  are  limited  classes  in  all  nations,  I  suppose,  that  are  prepared  to 
be  governed  by  moral  suasion.  In  France,  in  Russia,  in  Spain,  in 
Italy,  yea,  even  in  Turkey,  I  suppose  there  are  classes  of  men  who 
already  are  so  civilized,  and  so  developed  morally,  that  it  is  possible  to 
govern  them  by  the  moral  law,  and  not  by  the  law  of  force.  But 
when  men  are  regarded  in  a  mass ;  when  the  world's  population  is 
considered ;  or  when  the  population  of  Christendom  is  looked  upon 
comprehensively,  we  are  not  to  determine  what  is  proper  and  what  is 
possible  by  the  consideration  of  the  condition  of  individual  instances, 
or  of  single  classes,  but  we  must  take  into  consideration  the  condition 
of  the  whole  of  the  populations.  What  then*  civilization  is,  and  what 
the  law  is  to  which  they  are  susceptible,  must  be  determined  before 
we  can  ascertain  whether  they  must  be  governed  by  force,  or  whether 
they  can  be  governed  by  moral  suasion. 

There  are  isothermal  lines,  or  lines  of  equal  heat,  extending  across 
the  continent,  which  show  where,  in  dilFerent  longitudes,  are  the 
points  which  are  of  an  average  temperature  through  the  year.  There 
are  also  isobarometric  lines,  which  indicate,  at  any  given  time,  where 
there  is  an  equality  of  atmospheric  pressure.  Now,  there  is  in  the 
moral  globe  what  I  might  call  isodynamic  lines,  showing  where  there 
is  an  equal  moral  pressure.  And  until  these  isodynamic  lines  have 
risen  above  the  selfish  instincts  and  into  the  sentiments — the  affections 
and  the  moral  sense — it  is  not  possible  to  have  peace,  simply  because 
it  is  not  possible  to  dispossess  the  law  of  force.  As  soon  as  a  nation 
is  so  far  civilized  that  it  averages  in  its  population  a  susceptibility  to 
moral  motives  higher  than  the  line  of  selfishness  in  its  character,  then 
in  that  nation  the  time  has  come  in  which  you  can  lay  aside  force, 
with  exceptional  instances,  and  can  hope  to  govern  by  reason  and  con- 
science and  enlightened  interest.  But  in  all  nations  where  that  line 
comes  below,  and  yet  rests  in  the  animal  region,  the  law  of  force  is  the 
salutary,  the  wholesome,  as  well  as  the  indispensable  law. 

Men  can  therefore  determine  what  they  will  be  governed  by,  by  de- 
termining what  then'  character  shall  be ;  and  nations  will  be  governed, 


WAR  337 

in  the  long  ran,  not  so  much  by  any  external  adjudication,  as  by  the 
outworkings  of  the  state  of  mind  in  which  they  are  living,  and  by 
which  they  are  acting. 

It  had  been  hoped  and  believed,  and  twenty  years  ago  I  believed, 
that  the  era  of  wars  was  about  to  close  in  civilized  nations,  and  that 
war  would  leave  the  realm  of  Christendom,  and  retreat  to  brutal, 
savage  nations.  There  were  many  things  which  justified  this  antici- 
pation. 

The  great  increase  of  popular  intelligence  led  men  to  think  that  wars 
could  not  much  longer  stand  the  scrutiny  of  enlightened  reason.  The 
doctrine  of  human  rights,  also,  was  emancipating  and  bringing  up  a 
larger  section  to  a  dhect  or  indirect  influence  in  the  administration  of 
civil  afluirs.  The  progress  of  popular  industry,  giving  men  something 
to  do,  and  attractions  that  would  naturally  keep  them  at  home,  rather 
than  leave  vast  herds  to  be  enlisted  or  turned  hither  and  thither  at  the 
Avill  of  any  despot,  it  was  supposed  would  also  have  an  ameliorating 
efiect — as  it  did.  And  public  sentiment  had  begun  to  cry  out.  Much 
was  written,  and  preached,  and  lectured,  and  said  in  conversation,  of 
the  atrociousness  and  unchristianness  of  war.  There  were  discussions 
of  plans  for  a  national  ai'bitration  of  differences.  It  was  thought,  at 
that  time,  that  we  were  on  the  eve  of  a  Congress  of  Nations,  in  which 
questions  of  international  disagreement  or  interest  might  be  debated, 
and  whose  decisions  would  be  a  final  settlement. 

Then,  there  were  beginning  to  be  nations  that  set  the  example  of 
disarming,  or,  if  not  of  disarming,  at  any  rate  of  not  using  theii-  mili- 
tary and  naval  force.  England  was  one  of  the  first  of  them.  But 
though  it  is  true  that  England  learned  peace,  she  learned  it  from  com- 
merce, rather  than  from  religion.     It  was  with  her  as  it  was  with  all 

other  nations — religion  made  her  combative. 

"  Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  send  peace  on  earth :  I  came  not  to  send 
peace,  but  a  sword.  For  I  am  come  to  set  a  man  at  variance  against  his 
father,  and  the  daughter  against  her  mother,  and  the  daughter-in-law 
against  her  mother  in-law.  And  a  man's  foes  shall  be  they  of  his  owni 
household." 

Thus  said  the  prophet  Jesus.  He  came  to  divide  houses  against 
themselves  ;  children  against  their  parents ;  parents  against  their  chil- 
dren ;  one  against  another,  all  the  way  through.  And  every  word  of 
this  prophecy  has  been  fulfilled.  For  wherever  the  Christian  religiott 
has  been,  there  has  been  bitterness,  and  hati'ed,  and  persecutions,,  and 
wars.  And  the  crudest  things  that  were  ever  done  on  the  face  of  the 
earth,  have  been  done  in  the  name  of  religion,  and  by  men  who  were 
acting  under  a  malignant  conscience.  And  England  did  not  leara. 
peace  from  love.  Iler  looms  taught  her  the  benefit  of  peace.  It  was 
when  she  desued  the  world  to  be  her  customer  that,  as  a  matter  of 


338  WAR. 

political  economy,  she  judged  that  peace  was  best.  It  was  best,  in  her 
estimation,  for  the  same  reason  that  one  kind  of  cotton  was  better  to 
be  bought  than  another,  because  it  made  up  better,  and  sold  better, 
and  yielded  more  benefits  to  her. 

So  England  learned  peace — ^England,  one  of  the  staunchest  of 
fighters,  and  one  whose  flag  is  all  red,  as  if  it  had  been  baptized  in 
nothing  but  wars  from  the  beginning,  and  has  on  it  the  cross,  to  show 
that  there  was  a  touch  of  religion  in  her  war — for  wherever  the  devil 
is,  he  wants  some  hint  of  religion  to  commend  him  ;  and  a  cross  on  a 
blood-red  flag  is  a  good  thing !  And  war  is  symbolized,  not  only  on 
the  flag  of  England,  but  on  our  flag  as  well.  We  that  have  the  stars  of 
heaven  on  our  flag,  have  also  the  eagle,  with  its  talon  and  its  beak,  both 
bloody.  At  any  rate,  however  Great  Britain  learned  peace,  she  learned 
it ;  and  for  the  last  twenty-five  or  thkty  years  she  has  been  as  studious 
for  peace,  as  before  she  was  studious  for  war.  There  was  not  a  nation  on 
the  continent  of  Europe  that  had  not  heard  the  tread  of  her  soldiers. 
And  the  worst  of  it  was,  that,  for  fifty  yeai's,  during  the  great  struggle 
from  the  time  of  Napoleon's  outbi'eak  until  the  advent  of  the  gi-eat 
peace  that  followed,  England  went  to  war  and  spent  thousands  of  mil- 
lions, billions  upon  billions,  of  dollars.  And  although  she,  the  most 
democratic  of  European  nations,  has  lavishly  poured  her  money  into 
the  hands  of  despots,  to  establish  crowns  and  sceptres,  on  the  Spanish 
peninsula,  in  the  outlying  German  provinces,  in  the  struggle  of  the 
Austrians  against  Napoleon,  and  in  that  Russian  war  in  which  the 
whole  map  of  Europe  was  changed ;  although  she,  with  her  money  and 
influence,  has  been  fighting  for  dynastic  reasons  and  popular  reasons, 
nevertheless  she  learned  peace.     And  England  to-day  is  at  peace. 

But  let  no  one  ridicule  England  as  though  she  had  lost  her  power. 
Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  she  has  forgotten  to  be  courageous.  Theise 
is  not  a  more  courageous  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth  than  the  people 
of  Great  Britain.  Woe  be  to  him  that  wakes  up  the  old  lion,  on  the 
supposition  that  he  has  turned  to  a  lamb !  There  may  be  a  lamb  in  the 
neighborhood,  but  the  lion  yet  remains.  Woe  be  to  him  that  rouses 
up  the  dormant  strength  and  energy  of  that  most  wonderful  nation ! 
We  ought  to  speak  well  of  the  people  of  England,  because  we  are  of 
theu'  blood  and  bone.  We  came  forth  from  then-  loins,  as  they  came 
from  the  Germanic  stock  on  the  continent ;  and  we  and  they  are  of  the 
same  race,  bearing  the  same  great  race-marks. 

But  then,  the  history  of  Great  Britain  kindled  the  expectation,  cer- 
tainly among  the  sanguine,  that  the  era  of  peace  was  dawning.  In 
1850  I  went  abroad  for  the  first  time  in  my  life.  Dr.  Chapin  crossed 
the  sea  with  me  (wretched,  like  myself,  all  the  way  over),  bound  for 
ithe  World's  Peace  Convention  on  the  Rhine.     We  were  full  of  in 


WAR,  339 

spirntions  of  ur  I  versa!  peace.  And  at  that  time  I  tlilnk  that  perhaps  I 
prophesied,  here  or  somewhere  else,  that  we  should  "hang  the  trum- 
pet iu  the  hall,"  and  that  nations  should  "study  war  no  more."  I  be- 
lieved that  that  joyful  day  had  come.  But  since  that  time  there  have 
been  five  great  terrific  wars,  such  as  never  had  their  parallel  or  equal — ■ 
a  commentary  on  prophecy  ! 

In  1856  there  was  the  Crimean  war,  with  Eu'^sia  on  the  one  side, 
and  France  and  England  and  Lombardy  and  Turkey  on  the  other. 
The  whole  world  stood  iu  suspense  at  its  magnitude.  It  was  a  dynastic 
war.  In  1859  the  war  of  liberation  in  Italy  took  place.  This  was  one 
of  the  few  wars  for  a  principle,  however  unprincipled  the  actors  may 
have  been.  The  next  was  the  great  American  civil  war,  in  1861, 
which  never  had  any  equal,  or  anything  that  compared  with  it,  either  in 
magnitude,  or  in  the  character  of  the  men  of  whom  its  armies  were  com- 
posed, or  in  the  importance  of  the  principles  Avhich  it  involved,  or  in 
the  stupendous  results  which  were  evolved  from  it.  Then,  in  1866, 
was  the  Prussian  and  Austrian  War,  which  was  settled  at  Sadowa. 
And  now  comes  the  French  and  Prussian  War  of  1870. 

It  was  the  millenium  of  peace  iu  1850 ;  and  between  that  time  and 
the  present — 1870 — there  have  been  five  terrific  wars,  one  of  which  is 
just  now  about  to  c:)mmence,  and  in  which  two  nations  are  standing, 
like  a  park  of  ailillery,  loaded  to  the  muzzle,  and  awaiting  the  word 
to  be  discharged.  Two  of  these  five  great  conflicts  were  waged  for  a 
principle,  and  the  rest  of  them  for  balance  of  power. 

Yet  we  must  not  be  discoui'aged.  The  day  of  peace  is  coming. 
And  none  the  less  is  it  near  at  hand  because  there  is  so  much  war.  It 
is  true  that  the  wealth  of  the  world  is,  in  mines,  and  foundiies,  and 
forges,  and  shops,  manufacturing  desti'uctive  weapons.  It  is  true  that 
skill  and  inventive  genius  were  never  so  alert  and  busy  as  to-day  in 
manufacturing  instruments  of  mortal  pain.  It  is  true  that  capital  was 
never  so  largely  employed  in  the  production  of  munitions  of  war,  that 
military  men  were  never  so  much  in  vogue,  and  that  nations  were 
never  so  apt  to  plunge  into  conflicts,  as  just  at  that  time  Avhen  the 
downfall  of  Satan's  kingdom  is  the  surest. 

At  the  advent  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ  demoniac  pos- 
sessions were  the  most  common  in  the  world.  And  when  our  Master 
met  a  man  who  was  possessed  with  devils,  never  were  the  fiends  so 
violent  and  outrageous  as  at  that  point  in  whith  he  said  to  them,  "  I 
tell  you,  come  out  of  him."  Then  they  rent  the  victim,  and  cast  him 
on  the  ground  ;  but  it  was  the  final  struggle.  And  so  we  may  hope 
that  though  wars  may  rage  and  thunder,  and  send  up  their  lurid  colors 
on  the  dark  sky;  that  though  hell  seems  well  nigh  to  have  broken 
through  the  crust  of  the  eai-th.  and  to  have  poured  Ibrth  its  red  streams, 


340  WAR 

during  tlie  last  score  of  years,  nevertheless,  I  tliink  we  are  nearer  than 
ever  before  to  the  great  time  of  peace,  and  that  these  are  the  gigantic 
but  expiring  efforts  of  the  era  of  war. 

For,  to  some  extent  there  is  a  progress  of  civilization  and  of  Chris- 
tianity which,  though  it  is  yet  in  transition,  indicates  that  it  is  rapidly 
coming  to  a  period  of  j^otency.  It  acts  as  all  moral  forces  do  in  nascent 
periods — it  provokes  and  annoys  ;  but  it  is  very  soon  to  pass  the  state 
of  provocation  and  annoyance,  and  to  come  to  a  state  of  dominance  in 
which  it  will  control. 

In  view  of  this  hope  and  these  prospects,  there  are  influences  for 
which  men  should  strive,  and  there  are  certain  elements  which  might 
be  discontinued  and  discountenanced  to  some  extent.  An  exposition 
of  the  evils  of  war,  of  its  cruelties,  of  its  cost,  of  its  eflTects  upon  in- 
dustry, and  of  its  eifects  upon  the  common  people,  may  be  hoped  to 
avail,  and  to  create  a  judgment  in  the  minds  of  men  against  this  great 
scourge — though  not  to  any  such  extent  as  has  been  supposed.  I 
anticipate  the  incoming  of  the  time  of  peace,  not  so  much  through  the 
reason  as  through  the  lower  instincts  of  men. 

The  education  of  the  whole  common  people  until  the  isodynamic 
lines  shall  rise  higher  than  the  passions,  is  one  of  the  first  practical 
steps  toward  peace.  "VVe  never  shall  have  peace  with  an  ignorant,  im- 
poverished population  at  the  bottom — never !  As  long  as  men  of 
education  make  a  class  of  themselves,  and  separate  themselves  from 
their  lower,  and  less  fortunate  fellows  ;  as  long  as  society  is  divided  as 
milk  is,  the  cream  being  at  tKe  top  and  the  skim-milk  at  the  bottom, 
just  so  long  you  will  find  society  unbalanced,  unequal,  and  liable  to  be 
thrown  iwto  convulsions  ovit  of  which  will  spring  wars.  You  cannot 
develop  until  you  leavn  to  take  the  whole  mass  of  society  along  to- 
gether ;  until  the  wortsing  men  are  relieved  from  a  sense  of  injustice ; 
until  they  are  delivered  from  the  ii'ritation,  the  grinding,  and  the  at- 
trition of  wrongs  ;  until  they  are  taught  to  be  more  than  animals,  and 
are  treated  as  if  they  were  more  than  animals ;  until  they  begin  to 
feel  the  dignity  of  manhood.  You  cannot  hope  for  peace  when  one- 
half  or  two-thirds  of  your  great  nation  are  basilar.  And  the  idea  that 
men  can  be  directed  by  dynasties,  by  the  leading  minds  or  ruling  spirits 
of  any  form  of  government,  or  any  civil  polity,  without  restraint,  is  the 
height  of  infatuation  and  folly.  If  you  are  going  to  have  peace,  it  must 
be  proclaimed  by  the  common  people.  We  shall  not  have  peace  till 
they  understand  that  it  is  their  interest  as  well  as  duty.  When  that 
time  comes,  we  shall  have  peace  guaranteed  so  that  no  tyrant  can 
move  it. 

Whatever,  then,  tends  to  the  education  of  the  whole  people,  must 
necessarily  tend  to  the  diminution  of  the  chances  of  war.     War  is  not 


WAR.  341 

an  acute  disease  which  can  be  cured  by  special  remedies.  It  is  a  con- 
stitutional disorder.  It  belongs  to  human  nature.  It  is  the  remnant 
in  man  of  that  old  fighting  animal  from  which  Mr.  Darwin  says  we 
sprang.  One  might  find  some  presumption  in  favor  of  his  theory,  from 
the  fact  that  there  is  so  much  of  the  animal  left  in  us  yet.  It  has  been 
supposed  that  we  sprang  from  monkies ;  and  there  has  been  an  inqui- 
sition to  see  if  there  has  not  been  a  caudal  appendage  rubbed  oiF.  Na- 
tions have  been  explored  to  find  a  man  who  had  a  tail,  as  a  monkey 
has,  or  some  traces  of  one.  You  are  looking  in  the  wrong  place.  Look 
inside,  and  you  will  find  resemblances  to  the  monkey,  the  lion,  the 
tiger,  the  bear,  and  the  hog,  all  of  them.  Human  nature  is  full  of  the 
animal.  Unfortunately,  his  outside  is  better  than  his  inside ;  and  so 
he  is  not  detected  and  exposed.  And  this  disposition  to  assert  our 
rights  is  the  heritage  which  we  have  derived  from  our  animal  descent. 
And  until  we  have  taught  the  nations  of  the  earth  to  live,  not  by  the 
body,  but  by  the  head,  we  shall  have  continuous  infractions  of  peace, 
and  continuous  incursions  of  war. 

Hence,  common  schools  and  newspapers  are  all  of  them  peace 
forces.  They  are  not  arguments  on  peace,  but  they  are  causes  of 
peace.  Arguments  frequently  fail  when  causes  succeed.  Industrial 
associations,  which  bring  men  together  in  common  interests,  and  teach 
them  ideas  of  brotherhood  ;  guilds ;  unions ;  whatever  gives  the  work- 
ing-classes esprit  cle  corps ;  any  organizations  by  which  men  seek  to 
restrain  their  lower  nature,  or  to  improve  their  own  and  each  other's 
condition — these  are  moral  means  ;  and  though  in  the  first  sphere  and 
operation  they  may  be  selnshly  employed,  they  are  giving  an  inci- 
dental and  secondary  education  which  isi  tending  to  make  more  of  these 
men,  and  elevate  thein,  and  prepare  them  for  a  higher  plane  of  life  by- 
and-by. 

The  admission  of  all  classes  to  the  administration  of  national  affairs; 
the  educating  eflfect  of  giving  sulTi-age  to  all  the  people,  and  of  making 
the  polity  of  their  day  dependent  in  some  measure  upon  their  thought 
and  volition — these  things  are  preparing  the  common  people  to  be 
peaceful.  That  is,  it  is  teaching  them  to  use  the  coronal  faculties,  and 
not  the  basihu". 

The  eifect  of  community  of  industrial  interests  on  the  world  is  not 
to  be  lost  sight  of  The  workmen  in  the  nations  are  beginning  to  feel 
in  work  a  common  bond.  And  commerce  is  but  the  more  declarative 
form  or  development  of  the  same  thing.  The  interests  of  the  world, 
always  represented  in  connnerce,  work  for  peace.  Commerce  does  not 
love  war  anywhere.  Commerce  that  is  stationary  in  ports  ;  maimfac- 
turing  commerce ;  transporting  commerce,  that  is  making  exchanges 
throughout  the  globe ;  all  industrial  occupations,  lung  for  peace.    iVud 


342  WAJi 

they  are  so  far  educators  of  the  people.  And  although  this  may  be 
an  indirect  and  remote  education,  yet  it  is  one  of  those  indirect  and 
remote  educations  by  a  good  many  of  which  we  hope  to  bring  men  up 
to  a  larger  stature,  and  a  millenial  condition. 

There  is  no  possible  cure  for  war,  then,  that  leaves  important  classes 
of  men  under  great  wi'ongs.  Reformation  is  the  proper  first  step.  But 
if  you  refuse  reformation,  you  may  resort  to  the  next  step,  which  is 
revolution.  Next  to  that  is  war.  You  must  have  one  of  these.  Choose 
from  among  them.  For  man  is  moving.  '  God  moves  the  earth,  and 
he  moves  populations.  And  all  wiseacres,  all  conservatives,  all  men 
that  are  satisfied  with  their  present  condition,  cannot  stop  the  progress 
of  things. 

And  things  that  in  a  lower  stage  were  not  wrongs,  and  were  not  felt 
to  be  wrong,  became  so  by  the  development  of  men.  It  is  quite  folly 
to  reason  back  five  or  three  thousand  years  ago,  and  say,  "These  things 
existed  then,  and  were  not  condemned."  A  thing  tliat  five  hundred 
years  ago,  or  one  hundred  years  ago,  was  a  matter  of  indifference,  has 
come  to  be  a  matter  of  wrong,  simj)ly  because  men  have  changed  their 
relations  to  it. 

Slavery  was  once  a  benevolent  institution.  In  that  era  when  men 
bought  and  sold  their  wives  and  children,  and  when  in  war  all  cai)tives 
were  put  to  the  sword,  then  to  buy  them  and  i-ansom  them,  or  to  take 
them  slaves,  was  the  next  thing  to  adopting  them  into  national  and 
family  life.  It  was  a  gradation  so  easy  and  natural  that  there  was  not 
a  handsbreadth  between  a  man's  slave  and  his  own  child.  Under  such 
conditions  slavery  was  humane.  But  when  nations  had  gone  on  grow- 
ing so,  and  different  classes  and  different  interests  had  separated  so, 
that  to  be  a  slave  was  to  be  removed  five  hundred  degrees  from  the 
top  section  of  society,  then  slavery  became  a  monstrous  wvoi^g  th:it 
could  not  be  measured  nor  gauged. 

There  are  two  classes  of  men  in  our  day,  who,  it  seems  to  me,  are 
promoting  war.  First,  there  are  the  ]:)€ ace  men/  men  who  insist  u^jon 
peace  at  all  hazards,  without  conditions ;  who  will  have  peace  anyhow ; 
who  are  opposed  to  war  under  any  circumstances.  Their  doctrine  is 
a  premium  on  tyranny.  It  is  an  endorsement  of  despots.  Let  it  once 
go  out  that  there  shall  not  be  any  war  anyhow,  and  wicked  men  and 
nations  will  be  guaranteed  against  harm,  and  will  commit  atrocities 
with  impunity.  Let  England  and  France  say,  ""VVe  will  never  go  into 
war,"  and  they  invite  attack  from  every  side.  And  a  man  w}io  says, 
"Peace  at  any  price  ;  peace  at  all  hazards;  peace  anyhow,"  docs  that 
Avhich  in  the  most  effectual  way  encourages  men  to  disturb  tlie  peace. 
Such  persons  are  producers  of  war. 

You  never  can  have  peace,  until  you  love  justice  so  much  th:^.t  you 


WAii.  343 

insist  upon  it  that  there  shall  be  justice.  Then  you  will  have  peace. 
But  men  who  see  nations  ground  into  the  dust,  and  do  not  feel  that ; 
men  who  see  servile  classes  whose  very  nature  is  almost  wij^ed  out, 
and  do  not  feel  enough  about  that  to  be  disturbed ;  men  who  see 
human  nature  prostituted,  abused,  and  tyrants  wiping  their  feet  on 
God's  precious  souls,  and  do  not  think  it  is  wrong,  but  think  that  peace 
is  far  more  precious  than  human  nature,  human  life  and  human  growth 
— these  are  the  very  men  who  make  war.  Palliatives  to  tyranny  are 
provocatives  to  war.  And  he  is  recreant  who  says  "  Peace,"  so  long 
as  there  are  these  great  fundamental,  organic  evils  unrectified,  for 
which  there  is  no  peace.  God  will  not  give  peace  where  there  is  not 
purity.  Therefore  let  those  who  want  peace  preach  for  it,  and  labor  for 
it,  and  hope  for  it,  as  an  indisi^ensable  means  to  it.  Let  them  begin  to  rec- 
tify abuses.  Let  them  take  sides  with  the  weak,  and  see  to  it  that  justice 
prevails  among  men  who  are  deprived  of  their  rights.  Give  no  peace 
to  the  earth  till  righteousness  prevails,  and  then  you  will  take  the 
shortest  cut  to  universal  peace.  Wars  are  blisters  on  the  body  politic, 
to  draw  the  inflamation  out.  When  a  patient  is  going  to  die  of 
pneumonia,  the  doctor  puts  a  blister  over  the  aifected  part.  It  is  bad 
to  excoriate  the  skin,  but  it  is  worse  to  have  inflamation  of  the  lungs, 
and  die  from  not  having  it  drawn  off.  Wars  are  cauteries ;  wars  are 
God's  amputations  of  offending  members ;  and  they  are  very  great 
evils ;  but  those  are  greater  evils  which  they  are  employed  to  cure. 
The  surgeon's  knife  is  a  great  evil,  but  gangrene  and  death  are  greater 
evils.     Wars  are  hideous,  infernal  medicines. 

Then  there  are  the  conservative  men ;  men  of  indifference  and 
selfishness ;  fastidious  and  refined  men.  There  are  some  men  who,  in 
life,  are  very  much  like  what  thistle  downs  are  in  summer.  God  has 
at  work  under  ground  vast  engines,  gi-eat  coarse,  black  roots,  which 
crawl  through  the  soil,  and,  by  then-  hidden  power,  pump  up  large 
quantities  of  fluid  into  gi-ass,  and  flower,  and  plant,  and  shinib,  and 
tree.  The  great  expansive  force,  the  mighty  suction,  the  terrific  power 
of  this  tremendous  enginery,  is  felt  in  everything  that  has  vegetable 
life.  It  IS  the  omnipotence  of  Almighty  God  distributing  itself 
through  nature.  A  thistle-down  is  chased  through  the  air  by  a  but- 
terfly, on  a  bright  summer  day ,  and  they  hold  counsel  together  about 
the  vulgar  violence  of  Nature.  They  are  wafted  along  by  zephyrs. 
And  they  say,  "  See  how  we  live  !  "  Says  the  tliistle-down,  "  I  never 
was  born.  I  was  just  lifted  up  one  day  ;  and  I  have  floated  m  this 
way  ever  since.  I  liave  all  the  comfort  that  I  could  desire.  I  do  not 
work  like  that  old  oak  tree.  There  is  no  sap  pumped  into  me.  I  just 
float  and  enjoy  myself"  And  the  butterfly  says,  "  See  how  beautiful, 
how  exquisite,  I  am  I     Heaven  and  Summer  bathe  me  with  beauty, 


344  WAE. 

And  I  am  full  of  sweetness.  If  I  touch  the  earth,  it  Is  but  just  to  suck 
honey  from  this  flower  or  that,  and  fly  on."  But  in  the  midst  of  their 
conversation  there  comes  a  thunder-crack  ;  and  immediately  the  rain 
pours  down  in  torrents  ;  and  after  the  shower,  where  are  the  thistle- 
down and  the  butterfly  ?  Gone  down  to  the  earth  from  whence  they 
sprang,  and  annihilated,  are  they  ;  while  Nature  j)umps  on,  and  sends 
through  the  mighty  enginery  of  creation  the  elements  of  life  and 
strength. 

There  are  vast  forces  operating  in  the  world.  Some  of  them  are 
good,  and  some  are  bad.  And  w^e  shall  find  in  society  the  dilettante — 
the  kid-gloved,  delicate-fingered  man,  that  happens  to  have  been  born 
in  wealth.  He  has  a  little  brain,  and  God  made  up  the  equilibrium  by 
what  he  put  on  the  oiitside.  And  he  talks  of  keeping  things  as  they 
are.  "  What  is  the  use,"  he  says,  "  of  these  rude  convulsions ,  these 
excitements  ;  these  attritions  ;  these  agitations  ?  How  ridiculous  these 
men  are  that  go  about  stirring  up  the  world !  Why  do  not  men  preach 
the  mild  and  lovely  Jesus,  and  do  as  I  do  f  And  these  butterflies, 
these  thistle-downs ;  these  worthless  seeds  of  a  noxious  weed — what 
ai-e  they  doing  amidst  those  forces  which  are  really  regenerating  the 
world,  and  lifting  up  the  foundations  of  things,  and  beating  out  and 
sowing  seeds  to  bear  fruit  in  millennial  times  ?  These  are  the  men  who 
are  provoking  their  fellow  men  into  war,  and  refusing  to  recognize  the 
grandeur  or  to  sympathize  with  the  results  of  those  mighty  orgasms 
and  labor-throes  by  which  generations  grow  and  are  born  into  higher 
states.     These  are  the  men  that  talk  peace  and  make  war. 

In  regard  to  the  great  conflict  on  whose  dark  and  windy  edge  we 
stand,  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  speak — more  than  a  word.  It  is  not  a 
war  for  a  principle.  It  is  one  of  the  worst  kind  of  wars  that  can  in 
modern  days  be  fought.  In  neither  case  is  it  a  war  of  self-defence.  It 
is  not  a  war  for  the  liberation  of  any  class,  like  the  Italian  wai\  It  is 
purely  a  dynastic  war.  And  although  the  common  peojole  in  both 
nations  seem  to  be  utterly  inflamed  by  a  spirit  of  patriotism,  and  those 
of  each  nation  cluster  about  a  crown  that  has  no  vital  connection 
with  their  interests  ;  and  though  it  is  in  this  sense  their  war ;  yet,  it  is 
not,  in  the  higher  and  bettej^-  sense,  a  common  people's  war.  It  is  a 
king's  war. 

Uninformed  as  we  are  of  the  distinct  steps  which  led  to  this  war, 
we  cannot  form  a  judgment  except  with  the  consciousness  that  it  is  to 
be  re-formed  ;  but  so  far  as  our  knowledge  goes,  it  seems  to  me  that 
there  is  no  whit  of  difference  between  the  blame  of  the  one  and  the 
blame  of  the  other.  France  and  Prussia  both  seem  to  have  been  arming 
for  some  years  past,  expecting  that  the  time  of  conflict  would  come  when 
they  should  prove  which  was  the  stronger  military  force  in  Europe. 


WAii.  345 

And  they  have  been  ready  for  it.  And  the  King  of  Prussia  was  aiTO- 
gaut,  and  the  Emperor  of  France  was  impertinent.  And  so,  between 
aiTogance  and  impertinence,  here  comes  this  war,  that  will  deluge  the 
continent  in  blood.  Oh !  if  they  that  bring  on  this  mischief  might 
suffer! — but  no,  it  is  the  innocent.  How  many  thousands  will  fall  be- 
fore another  Sunday  comes,  our  imagination  may  depict,  but  we  cannot 
tell.  How  many  thousands,  lusty  in  youth,  full  of  hoj^e  and  promise, 
the  sons  of  widows  cherished,  on  whom  rests  the  family,  as  the  house 
stands  upon  its  corner — how  many  of  these  will  have  perished,  or  will 
be  maimed,  we  cannot  tell.  If  they  could  only  think,  "  The  flag  will 
fly  washed  of  its  stain,"  they  might  have  some  consolation  in  dying. 
When  our  boys  died  at  Chickamauga  and  at  Gettysburg,  they  died 
thinking,  "  I  leave  behind  for  my  life  a  country  free  from  slavery  ;  I 
leave  an  unvexed  posterity  ;  I  leave  a  united  patrimony  ;"  and  they 
could  well  afford  to  die.  But  what  can  the  gasping  Prussian  or  the 
gasping  Frenchman  think  ?  He  dies,  and  ihere  is  no  principle  settled 
in  the  one  way  or  the  other.  The  question  is  simply,  Which  nation 
has  the  strongest  army  and  the  expertest  generals  1  No  moral  prin- 
ciple is  brightened.     No  great  end  of  nations  is  gained. 

There  are  incidental  things  that  make  us  interested  in  the  Prostest- 
ant  nation ;  but  this  is  not  a  war  for  Protestantism.  There  are  reasons 
why  we  should  feel  a  natural  di'awing  towards  the  Germanic  nation, 
which  tends  more  to  democratic  ideas,  and  from  which  we  derived  our 
notions  of  liberty ;  but  it  is  not  for  democracy  or  liberty  that  this  war 
is  waged.  I  feel  a  stronger  sympathy  for  the  German  people  than  for  the 
French  ;  but  I  do  not  see  that  any  of  these  questions  on  which  they 
are  in  advance  of  the  French  are  involved  in  this  war.  I  look  upon 
this  conflict  as  a  needless  fight,  with  gigantic  cruelty  and  hideous 
power ;  and  I  feel  as  if  there  had  never  been  a  guiltier  war.  Woe ! 
woe !  be  to  that  crowned  head  in  Prussia ;  woe !  be  to  that  crowned 
head  in  France,  that  so  ruthlessly  and  so  needlessly  has  whelmed  this 
day  and  generation  into  measureless  suffering. 

And  it  is  for  us  to  stand,  as  a  nation,  sorry — sony  by  all  the  lessons 
which  we  have  learned  in  our  own  chastisements ;  sorry,  because  the 
wounds  are  unhealed  yet  in  a  thousand  households ;  sorry  because  the 
tears  have  not  forgotten  to  flow  over  our  own  dead ;  sorry  because  we 
know  what  war  is,  even  at  the  best,  when  it  is  waged  for  the  loftiest 
purposes,  and  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  for  the  sake  of  the  whole  com- 
mon people.  We  ought  to  be  sorry  for  wars  that  are  so  much  worse, 
and  that  must  be  so  bootless,  as  they  are  ruthless. 

I  have  heard  men  say,  "  If  there  be  war,  grain  will  rise.  Com- 
merce will  revive  on  our  side.  It  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows  no  good  to 
anybody."     If  my  neighbor's  house  were  on  fire,  I  should  as  soon  think 


346  WAR 

of  rushing  in  to  plunder,  and  say,  "  I  will  divide  and  partition  his  goods 
— it  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows  no  good  to  anybody,"  as  I  should  think  of 
looking  on  the  convulsions  of  Europe,  and  counting  up  the  benefits  that 
will  come  from  them  to  us,  by  sea  or  by  land.     I  am  ashamed  of  it ! 

The  sources  of  our  strength  are  in  our  nerve,  in  our  intelligence, 
and  in  our  industry.  We  do  not  need  the  casualties  of  other  nations  to 
build  us  up.  We  ought  to  be  lifted  above  any  such  feeling  or  thought 
as  that.  I  know  you  may  make  it  a  matter  of  political  calculation  and 
political  economy  without  being  in  sympathy  with  the  distress  of  for- 
eign nations ;  but  take  care  that  you  let  no  miscreant  selfishness  min- 
gle with  your  surmises  and  prognostications.  It  is  for  us,  viewing  the 
hideousness  of  these  wars  on  other  shores,  to  form  in  our  minds  a  lof- 
tier ambition,  and  a  clearer  conception  of  what  should  be  the  ambition 
of  every  true  statesman  in  America. 

Has  not  the  world  seen  enough  of  the  war  of  violence  ?  Has  not 
God  kept  back  this  contiuent  and  settled  it  with  a  homogenous  popu- 
lation, under  common  laws  and  a  common  constitution,  and  given  it  to 
us  from  shore  to  shore,  and  from  the  North  to  the  South,  with  no 
neighboring  nations  that  can  interfere  with  or  in  any  way  change  the  ten- 
dency of  things  in  our  time,  in  order  that  we  might  build  here  a  great 
nation  for  the  liberty  of  the  common  people,  on  Christian  foundations, 
and  then  give  to  the  world  an  example  of  civic  power  with  civic  mo- 
rality ?  If  that  is  to  be  the  duty  of  a  republic,  I  am  glad  that  New 
York  is  not  a  specimen  of  civic  power,  and  that  we  are  to  look  abroad 
upon  the  face  of  the  whole  nation,  rather  than  uj)on  any  local  sores — 
sores  largely  made  by  the  drifting  in  of  the  detritus  of  foreign  de- 
pravities. 

But  it  is  for  us  to  desii'e  for  our  own  country,  not  magnitude,  but 
majesty  /  not  power,  but  influence.  It  is  for  us  not  to  ask  wealth,  but 
to  ask  that  a  people,  inevitably  rich,  multitudinous  as  the  sands  of  the 
sea,  organized  by  freedom  so  loosely  that  foreign  dynasties  do  not  be- 
lieve there  is  any  law  or  govei'nmeut  here  at  all,  should  rise  up  in  their 
unshackled  freedom  and  present  to  the  world  a  nation  more  happy, 
more  pure,  socially  and  politically,  than  any  other  nation  on  the  globe. 
And  then,  in  the  might  and  majesty  of  our  unmeasured  power,  having 
given  token  to  the  world  of  what  terrible  force  there  is,  too,  in  our  mil- 
itary power,  let  this  nation  stand  and  preach  peace,  that  all  the  nations 
of  the  earth  may  see  that  real  liberty  among  an  intelligent  and  educated 
common  people,  leads  not  to  lust  and  to  greed,  and  to  avarice  of  neigh- 
boring territories,  and  to  despotism,  but  to  humanity,  to  milder  man- 
ners, to  beneficent  institutions,  and  to  beneficence. 

I  plead,  not  that  God  would  preserve  this  nation,  for  that  is  an  an- 
swered prayer ;  I  plead  not  that  God  would  lay  deep  the  keel  and  build 


r 


WAR  347 

strong  tlie  ribs  of  this  ship  of  state,  for  the  Iiocky  Mountains  and  the 
Alleghanies  are  ah-eady  his  answer  to  that  petition ;  I  plead  not  that 
God  would  pile  up  riches  in  this  land,  for  wealth  has  dropped  down  in 
our  midst  in  floods,  and  is  to  come  in  yet  greater  streams ;  but  I  pi'ay 
that  there  may  be  such  a  spirit  of  Christianity  among  the  people,  that, 
great  as  it  is,  vast  as  its  power  is,  it  may  stand  and  look  abroad.  Christ- 
like, upon  the  nations,  winning  them  to  civilization  ;  winning  them  to 
amenity  of  manners  ;  winning  them  to  true  piety ;  winning  them  to 
that  Avhich  shall  redeem  their  homes  from  barbarism,  that  shall  redeem 
the  common  people  from  oppression,  and  that  shall  make  them  strong 
in  the  Loi'd,  until  that  bright-  and  blessed  day  shall  come,  when  we 
shall  have  no  occasion  to  say  to  any  man,  "  Know  ye  the  Lord,"  but 
when  all  shall  know  him,  from  the  lea^st  to  the  greatest.  God  speed 
that  day. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

We  desire  to  adore  thee,  our  Heavenly  Father,  for  thy  justice,  for  thy 
truth,  for  thy  love  and  mercy,  and  for  all  that  we  have  known  of  them  in 
our  own  experiences,  and  for  all  that  which  men  have  testilied  to,  so  that  we 
know  that  thy  government  is,  over  all  the  earth,  a  government  of  goodness 
and  mercy,  and  that  the  power  which  rules  above  is  not  tyrannical.  We 
are  not  in  the  hands  of  a  despot.  Thou  art  our  Father;  and  to  all  who  will 
draw  near  to  thee  in  love  thou  art  ineffable  in  mercy  and  in  goodness.  Thru 
wilt  bear  with  their  weakness.  Thou  wilt  show  tliem  the  way.  Though 
they  stumble  therein  a  thousand  times,  thou  wilt  lift  tliem  up.  Thou  wilt 
bfe  patient  with  their  wanderings,  and  bring  them  back  again,  so  that  they 
do  not  let  thee  go,  but  seek  to  serve  thee  with  all  their  lieart.  Thou  wilt 
forgive  all  their  transgressions,  and  all  their  infirmities  thou  wilt  help  and 
succor  with  more  than  parental  tenderness.  Art  not  thou  the  God  that  we 
need,  long  sufrering,and  tilled  with  goodness  ?  Art  not  thou  theGod  whom, 
sinners  need,  forgiving  iniquity,  transgression  and  sin.  and  yet  that  will  by- 
no  means  clear  the  guilty?  We  rejoice  in  thee.  We  rejoice  that  all  the- 
foundations  of  truth,  and  honor,  and  justice,  are  gu-iianteed  by  thee.  Nor 
shall  man's  delincjuency,  nor  any  power  infernal,  overthrow  the  establisliedi 
order  of  virtue  and  rectitude.  Forever  and  forever  guarded  and  guided* 
of  God,  they  shall  go  on  throughout  the  world,  governing  and  to  govern, 
until  their  mission  is  fulfilled,  and  justice  shall  have  brauglit  forth  love, and' 
all  the  universe  shall  be  at  peace  and  in  joy. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  to  us  more  and  more  pcrfectr 
disclosures  of  this  thy  royal  nature,  that  tliy  sovereignty  may  not  seeui  some- 
thing pressing  upon  us,  something  overwhelming  our  fieedom;  that  we  n»uv 
behold  in  it  all  the  guarantees  of  our  liberty  ;  that  we  may  see  that  it  is  fuUi 
of  all   love,    and  tiiat  it  moves  and  administers  for  the  purposes  thereof. 

And  we  pray  that  we  may  be  won  from  selfishness;  trom  pride;  from 
every  pa'^sion  ;  from  the  lusts  of  the  llesh  ;  from  >ill  vanities  and  pumps  that: 
war  against  the  soul ;  from  everything  that  tarnishes  the  purity  and.  lustre 
of  thy  nature  in  o  irs. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  teach  us  how  more  and  iuor«  tO' 


348  WAM, 

refine  our  life  and  power;  how  to  make  it  more  spiritual ;  how  to  seal  it 
with  all  the  signets  of  immortality.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt 
grant  that  we  may  live  more  and  more  for  the  life  to  come ;  that  our  heart 
may  be  there,  our  treasure  being  there ;  that  our  affections  may  be  set  upon 
things  above,  and  not  upon  things  on  the  earth. 

Forgive  us  all  our  sins,  and  teach  us  to  forgive  one  another.  By  the 
meekness  and  gentleness  of  Christ,  may  we  learn  to  be  meek  and  gentle  and 
forbearing  to  one  another,  and  to  be  forgiving  to  one  another,  if  we  have 
offences  one  against  another. 

We  beseech  of  thee,  O  Lord,  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy  blessing,  this  morn- 
ing, to  all  that  are  in  thy  presence.  To  all  that  sit  in  darkness,  bring  light. 
To  all  that  are  in  despondency  or  diapair,  bring  hope.  To  all  that  are  in 
bereavements,  bring  strength  and  encouragement  and  comfort.  And  we  be- 
seech of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  that  none  of  us  may  repine  when  the  hand 
of  the  Lord  is  laid  in  chastisement  upon  us.  May  we  remember  that  whom 
the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,  and  scourgeth  every  son  whom  he  receiveth. 
And  may  we  be  prepared  by  chastisemerts  so  to  grow  in  spiritual  things, 
that,  at  last,  when  life  itself  shall  depart,  and  all  its  visions  and  dreams  give 
way,  the  glorious  realities  of  thy  kingdom  shall  come,  where,  because  we  have 
suffered  with  thee,  we  shall  reign  with  thee. 

And  now  we  beseech  thee  to  look  upon  thy  cause  everywhere.  Have 
compassion,  we  pray  thee,  upon  all  those  who  are  laboring  in  thy  cause  in 
destitute  places,  amidst  discouragements  and  trials  of  their  faith.  ]\Iay  fee- 
ble churches  be  strengthened.  May  thy  ministering  servants,  in  the  midst 
of  sickness,  and  disappointments,  and  all  manner  of  trials,  still  be  girded 
with  the  strength  of  Almighty  God.  We  pray  that  intelligence  may  prevail ; 
that  schools  and  colleges  may  come  up  in  remembrance  before  thee ;  and 
that  they  may  become  sanctified  fountains  not  only  of  learning  but  of  grace. 

We  pray  for  the  nations  of  the  earth.  Teach  them  to  make  war  no  more 
on  one  another.  Bring  in  that  day  of  purity  and  justice  and  truth  when 
there  shall  be  no  use  for  war ;  when  men  shall  learn  the  things  that  make 
for  peace,  and  make  for  the  welfare  of  one  another. 

Let  thy  kingdom  come,  and  thy  will  be  done  in  all  the  earth. 

We  ask  it  for  Christ  Jesus'  sake.    Amen. 


PRAYER   AFTER   THE    SERMON. 


Our  Heavenly  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  word 
spoken,  and  grant  that  it  may  do  us  good.  May  we  ponder  the  way  of  thy 
providence,  and  the  permissions  thereof  May  we  look  upon  the  distress  of 
all  nations ;  and  may  we  pray  and  long  that  out  of  it  siiall  come  some  knowl- 
edge that  shall  do  other  times  good.  If  it  be  in  accordance  witli  thy  wis- 
dom, stay  the  hand  of  violence;  but  if  the  vials  must  be  poured  out,  O 
Lord!  let  it  be  a  short  day.  L^t  the  thunder  sound  and  cease.  iMay  thy 
lightning  come,  and  return  again  to  its  sheath.  And  grant  that  the  day 
may  speedily  come  when  men  shall  be  lifted  so  far  above  seltishness  and 
passion  that  there  shall  be  no  need  of  force,  no  need  of  chastisements,  and 
no  need  of  war. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  forever  and  forever.     Amen. 


XX. 

Patience. 


INVOCATION. 


July  24,  1870. 

WE  pray  for  the  Messmg  to  rest  upon  us,  out  Father,  that  we  may 
not  feel  alone  in  thy  presence,  unknowing,  unperoeiving,  unthinking. 
Teach  us  with  that  spirit  of  love  which  shall  bring  us  into  communion  with 
thee  ;  and  reveal  to  us  the  truth  of  unseen  things.  Prepare  our  souls  for  the 
truth,  and  our  hearts  for  thine  indwelling.  And  may  the  services  of  this  day 
and  its  devotion  be  profitable  to  us,  and  be  pleasing  to  thee.  We  ask  it  in  the 
name  and  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord  and  Saviour.    Ainen. 


PATIEICE. 


"  For  ye  have  need  of  patience,  that,  after  ye  have  done  the  will  of  God, 
ye  might  receive  the  promise." — Heb.  X.  36. 


The  implication  is,  that  many  of  those  to  whom  the  apostle  -wrote, 
consciously  having  performed  their  duty  in  the  Lord,  had  not  received 
any  token  or  evidence  of  the  fruit  of  the  performance  of  duty,  and  were 
discouraged,  and  thought  it  perhaps  a  vain  thing  to  attempt  a  religious 
life — reasoning  in  this  way  :  "  If  we  attempt  any  secular  improvement 
we  see  that  the  work  which  we  are  performing  grows  under  our  hands. 
If  I  be  a  husbandman,  I  perceive,  on  sowing  the  seed,  that  there  is  use 
in  it ;  for  it  springs  up,  and  I  have  my  hai-vests.  If  I  am  a  vintner,  I 
perceive,  in  my  vines,  and  in  the  fruitage,  that  for  which  I  labor.  And 
even  when  I  do  not  perceive  at  once  the  full  fruit,  I  see  the  tokens  of 
its  coming,  and  all  the  steps  by  which  it  comes." 

"  Now,"  says  the  apostle,  "  ye  that  are  spiritual  husbandmen,  as  it 
were,  have  need  of  patience,  after  ye  have  done  the  will  of  God  and 
nothing  comes,  until  you  receive  the  promise."  It  is  recognized  that 
there  is  a  long  space  between  the  doing  and  the  fulfilling,  as  there  oftea 
is,  and  that  that  is  the  point  where  men  specially  need  patience,  and 
patience  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  up  their  faith  in  the  reality  of  per- 
sonal religion.     For  the  context  is  this : 

"  Cast  not  away  therefore  your  confidence,  which  hath  great  recompense 
of  reward.  For  ye  have  need  of  patience,  that,  after  ye  have  done  the  will 
of  God,  ye  might  receive  the  promise.  For  yet  a  little  while,  and  he  that 
shall  come  will  come,  and  will  not  tarry.  Now  the  just  shall  live  by  faith  : 
but  if  any  man  draw  back,  my  soul  shall  have  no  pleasure  in  him." 

Patience  is  not  one  of  those  stupid  experiences  which  have  been 
sometimes  in  vogue.  It  is  not  the  grace  of  indifference  or  of  laziness. 
Neither  is  it  a  kind  of  dogged  obstinacy  under  ditticulties.  It  is  the 
sequence  of  entei-prise  and  of  endeavor,  and  is  an  act  of  self-control.  It 
is  the  control  of  one's  desires,  either  when  he  longs  for  gratification  and 
has  it  not,  or  when  he  is  under  the  pressure  of  suffering.  It  is  the 
power  of  holding  one's  self  calmly  and  contentedly  under  dej-rivatioua 
or  under  difficulties. 

St'N'iiAT  Mohmno,  July  24,  1870.  Lesson  :  EomahbXII.  IIymxs  (Plymouth  Collec- 
tion) :  Ko8.  40,  5;U,  1257. 


350  PATIENCE. 

It  is  anotter  name,  then,  for  self-control,  and  self-control  under  cir- 
cumstances of  suffering. 

In  the  text,  the  teacher  points  to  a  very  common  experience — 
namely,  impatience  because  labor  does  not  bring  forth  its  results  im- 
mediately. Divine  providence  is  conducting  a  double  system  in  this 
world,  or  rather  a  single  system  with  two  developments.  Constantly 
these  two  elements  in  it  are  clashing,  by  reason  of  men's  misunder- 
Btandings;  but  they  are  cooperative  and  harmonious  in  the  plan  of 
God.  There  is  a  physical  life  in  this  world.  We  are  grounded  in 
that.  We  begin  in  that.  It  is  the  root  of  all  our  life.  But  out  of  that 
lis  to  spring  a  still  higher  life  ;  and  the  problem  of  living  in  this  world 
is  the  development  of  that  other  and  higher  manhood  out  of  that  lower 
or  physical  manhood. 

While  this  development  is  going  on,  Ave  are  the  subjects  of  mate- 
rial laws.  We  are  living  in  societies,  under  occupations,  under  gov- 
ernments ;  and  we  are  obliged  to  carry  ourselves  with  a  wisdom  which 
is,  adapted  to  the  physical  senses.  Yet  while  we  are  doing  this 
(we  learn  this  first,  and  it  is  very  apt  to  be  the  strongest  impulse  in 
us) — while  we  are  doing  this,  there  is,  at  the  same  time,  to  be  carried 
on  another  development  to  which  this  is  auxiliary,  and  for  which  this 
has  been  originally  constituted — the  unfolding  of  the  higher  spiritual 
life,  which  is  so  different  from  this  lower  one,  that  it  is  called  a  "  new 
life  "  created  by  the  spirit  of  God  in  man. 

And  although  he  that  is  hving  in  the  highest  development  of  his 
spiritual  life  is  living  in  a  way  which  harmonizes  him  with  all  physical 
influences ;  on  the  other  hand,  a  man  may  live  so  as  to  be  in  harmony 
with  all  physical  laws,  and  yet  not  be  developing  his  true  spiritual  life. 

These  two  elements,  which  are  going  on  together,  induce  a  conflict 
and  a  misapprehension  and  a  jar ;  and  men  are  sacrificing  then*  highei 
life  for  the  sake  of  gaining  this  lower  and  physical  life. 

Thus  we  have  this  duality  recognized  all  the  way.  through — the 
life  of  the  body  and  the  life  of  the  soul. 

Now,  our  Father  is  conducting  a  providence  which  recognizes  both 
of  them,  but  subordinates  them,  keeping  the  lower  low,  and  the  highei 
supreme.  He  administers  all  the  time  among  the  infinite  choices  that 
are  to  be  made  in  adapting  his  providence  to  his  subjects.  He  is  per- 
petually administering  his  government  as  we  that  are  wise  parents  ad- 
minister ours  in  the  family.  We  take  care  of  our  children's  bodies ; 
of  their  food ;  of  their  dress ;  of  their  physical  comfort.  At  the  same 
time  it  is  with  reference  to  an  ulterior  manhood.  And  in  every  in- 
stance, if  there  is  a  choice  in  reference  to  truth-telling,  purity,  delicacy 
of  mind  and  generosity  of  love,  we  teach  the  child  to  sacrifice  the  lower 
for  the  sake  of  keeping  the  higher.    We  are  in  our  households  canying 


PATIENCE.  351 

on  a  duplejc  education,  which  is  at  its  base  physical  and  in  its  higher 
dovclopments  moral  and  social.  And  that  which  we  ai£  doing  in  the 
stnall,  God  is  doing  in  the  large  sphere.  And  the  human  race  are  being 
developed  at  the  bottom  phj'sically,  and  at  the  top  spiritually. 

We  find  a  recognition  of  this  matter  in  the  2nd  Epistle  to  the  Cor- 
inthians, by  a  relative  valuation  of  the  two  systems  : 

"  We  look  not  at  the  things  which  are  seen  [not  at  the  sense-life],  but  at 
the  thinf-  'lich  are  not  seen  [at  the  invisible, 'Spiritual,  immortal  lite] :  For 
the  things  vvliich  are  seen  are  temporal;  but  the  things  which  are  not  seen 
are  eternal." 

In  other  words,  the  apostle  weighs  the  one  world  over  against  the 
other,  and  says  the  real  and  the  most  abiding  is  not  that  which  is  re- 
garded by  men  as  on  the  whole  an  imaginary  and  simply  concei)tional 
world.  Most  men,  if  they  talk  about  substantial  things,  mean  things 
that  can  be  put  into  the  scales  and  weighed.  "  It  is  bone,  and  blood, 
and  flesh,  and  body,  and  matter,  that  is  real,"  they  say ;  "  and  the  other 
things — the  poetic  and  imaginarj^,  the  picturings,  the  beautiful  things — 
well,  yes,  they  are  real  in  a  sense.''  But  the  apostle  says,  "  The  foun»- 
dations  are  in  the  invisible ;  and  they  are  eternal.  This  is  the  transient 
state ;  this  is  that  which  comes  and  goes,  and  is  forever  in  mutation. 
He  who  once  reaches  this  sphere,  as  from  organized  matter,  becomes 
an  intelligent  being.  He  has  risen,  as  from  the  clod ;  but  as  compared 
with  the  ultimate  development,  he  has  hardly  begun  to  rise.  For  there 
is  the  manhood,  there  is  the  reality,  there  is  the  Saviour,  and  there  is 
the  eternity,  out  of  sight — invisible." 

There  is,  however,  one  element  which  runs  through  both  parts  of 
this  providence  ;  viz.,  the  time  element.  In  general,  the  time  legiti- 
mately required  for  the  accomplishment  of  an  end,  or  the  production 
of  an  efiect,  measures  the  value  of  that  effect.  Or,  in  other  words, 
the  things  that  you  can  do  very  quickly  are  usually  of  the  least  value  ; 
and  the  things  which  legitimately  require  the  longest  time  in  the  do- 
ing, are  the  things  that  are  of  the  most  value.  The  presumptions, 
therefore,  are  that  things  which  come  q\iick  are  of  small  woilli,  and 
that  all  things  that  require  a  great  deal  of  time,  a  history,  involve  in 
themselves  elements  of  a  gi'eater  value. 

Physical  qualities  and  physical  objects  ai-e  very  near  at  hand.  A 
man  cleai's  up  a  forest,  and  lays  down  his  farm,  and  sees,  from  day-to- 
day, what  hcxis  doing.  The  spot  where  the  sun  goldens  the  ground 
grows  larger  from  day-to-day.  As  he  hews,  and  the  chips  fly  at  every 
stroke,  and  the  log  shapes  itself  at  every  blow,  and  the  house  goes  np,. 
timber  by  timber,  or  brick  by  brick,  he  sees,  every  night,  what  has: 
been  accomplished  since  morning.  We  raise  our  harvests  in  the  same- 
way.  In  the  Spring,  after  a  few  days,  we  see  the  sprouting  grass,  as 
it  were ;  and  then,  after  a  little,  the  gi'owth  and  the  developments 


352  PATIENCE. 

Much  that  we  sow  enrly  in  the  Spring  we  reap  again  before  the  Spring 
is  gone  ;  much  in  early  Summer ;  most  in  Autumn.  The  distance 
between  the  establishment  of  the  cause  and  the  reaping  of  the  effect 
is  very  short  in  physical  things ;  and  we  can  see,  from  hour  to  hour, 
from  week  to  week,  from  month  to  month,  or  from  ycr-  to  year,  the 
results  of  our  work.  The  lowest  sphere  is  the  place  where  we  can 
quickest  realize  the  fruits  of  our  laboi\  This  is  the  place  where  the  least 
time  is  requh-ed  for  effects  to  show  themselves.  It  is  here  that  the 
thing  sought  follows  most  immediately  on  volition.  It  is  here  that 
cause  and  effect  stand  most  closely  together.  As  when  you  touch 
powder  to  fire,  there  is  an  instantaneous  explosion,  so  there  is  the  great- 
est instantaneity  between  cause  and  effect  the  lower  down  you  go  toward 
base  matter.  And  the  higher  you  go  above  base  matter,  the  wider  is 
the  interval  between  cause  and  effect. 

Next  above  the  physical  department  of  life  is  the  intellectual.  This 
is  far  higher.  I  will  not  show  the  intermediate  steps  between  the  two. 
The  training,  for  instance,  of  our  reasoning  faculties,  and  the  pro- 
duct in  the  use  of  them,  require  a  much  longer  period  of  time  than 
the  drilling  of  the  hand  or  of  the  foot.  A  man  can  learn  to  use 
a  tool  far  sooner  than  he  can  learn  to  invent  a  tool.  A  man  can 
learn  to  lase  his  body  in  a  day  or  two  ;  or  in  a  few  weeks  ;  or  in  a  few 
months  ;  and,  in  complex  trades,  in  a  few  years  ;  but  a  man  does  not 
learn  how  to  make  use  of  his  intellectual  faculties  in  that  length  of 
time.  And  we  call  it  the  education,  the  drawing  out,  the  developing 
of  our  foculties,  and  the  teaching  them  comprehensive  philosophy — the 
knowledge  of  how  to  use  themselves  so  that  they  shall  control  the  natu- 
ral globe.  This  is  a  slower  work.  While  the  education  of  the  body 
speeds  very  rapidly,  the  education  of  the  mind  takes  long,  long  years. 
And  the  intellect  is  certainly  very  much  higher  than  the  muscle,  or  the 
bone.  And  so  you  see  that  this  time-element  increases  in  proportion 
to  the  value  of  the  thing  developed.  Longer  waiting  thei'e  is  to  be 
between  effect  and  cause  as  you  rise  in  the  scale. 

If  we  regard  the  perception  of  the  beautiful,  the  fine,  and  the  har- 
monious, as  a  higher  development  of  the  intellectual,  or  as  dependent 
on  a  yet  higher  class  of  faculties,  we  shall  find  that  this  test  which  I 
have  employed  is  still  true  ;  viz.,  that  no  man  can  produce  the  beauti- 
ful (the  beautiful  in  truth,  I  mean)  half  as  fast  as  he  can  the  lower  ele- 
ments. In  other  words,  truth,  in  its  higher  and  finer  elements,  is  a 
product  that  requires  more  time  for  development  than  truth  in  its  lower 
forms.  The  sesthetic  is  higher  than  the  simply  intellectual ;  and  no 
man  works  in  the  s^Dhere  of  the  JBsthetic  without  being  obliged  to  work 
with  long  waiting.  The  space  is  wider  between  the  seed-sowing  and 
the  harvest-reaping.     The  effects  are  more  difiicult  to  be  produced, 


PATIENCE,  353 

and  the  number  that  can  with  any  focility  produce  them  is  fewer,  tlian 
in  the  foregoing  departments.  Indeed,  in  some  of  the  highest  devel- 
'^'^nients  of  the  aesthetic  clement,  only  an  elect  few  are  found  who  have 
Any  power  of  development.  And  the  interval  between  what  is  con- 
>,ived  and  the  efl'ect,  is  longer  than  in  the  intellectual  realm. 

But  moral  qualities  stand  higher  than  even  the  intellectual  and 
artistic  in  their  higher  forms.  Love  (not  that  instinct  which  comes  to 
all,  but  spiritual  love,  comprehensive,  discriminating,  fine),  joy  (not 
that  giggling  joy  of  the  senses,  but  the  inspiration  of  the  spirit,  joy 
in  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  high  and  blessed  enjoyment  which  comes 
with  faith  and  with  hope) — love  ;  joy  ;  peace  ;  faith  ;  gentleness ; 
goodness ;  truthfulness — how  few  there  are  that  possess  these  !  How 
rare  is  it  to  see  men  who  are  fully  armed  with  them  !  And  where 
they  are  possessed,  how  long  a  discipline  it  was  that  produced  them  ! 
The  few  great  men  who  have  been  so  marked  by  the  power  of  the 
higher  moral  qualities  that  they  have  left  an  impression  on  the  world, 
are  men  who  went  through  long  peiiods  of  scourgings,  persecutions, 
sufferings,  all  manner  of  disciplines,  before  they  rose  to  any  dynamic 
form  or  condition  of  these  higher  moral  qualities.  A  man  can  teach 
himself  to  think  ;  but  how  many  men  can  teach  themselves  to  be  at 
peace.  A  man's  will  may  coerce  his  industry ;  but  how  many  men  have 
liad  the  power  of  will  to  coerce  their  joy  ?  A  man  can  make  himself 
mighty  where  might  means  muscle,  or  persevei-ance,  or  temper,  or 
aggressive  force  in  any  form ;  but  how  many  men  can  by  any  volition 
clothe  themselves  with  spiritual  might,  so  that  they  shall  be  spiritually 
powerful  among  their  fellow  men  ?  It  is  a  long  trial  that  makes  strong, 
impetuous,  rude,  harsh,  cruel  men  gentle — sweetly  gentle — voluntaiily 
gentle. 

How  long  it  takes  to  subdue  power  to  humility !  How  long  it 
takes  to  turn  a  man's  self-esteem  into  a  patronizing  magnanimitv ! 
How  long  it  takes  to  transform  man's  native  conception  that  he  is 
born  and  built  for  his  own  using,  into  the  conception  that  he  is  born 
and  built  to  use  himself  for  others,  in  honor  preferring  others,  and 
pleasing  others  to  their  edification  ! 

As  you  go  higher,  the  work  is  more  difficult.  It  is  larger,  it  is 
finer,  and  the  peiiod  of  time  between  the  starting  and  the  ending  is 
longer.  The  journey  between  a  man's  volition  and  his  higher  moral 
traits,  is  a  veiy  long  one,  ordinarily  speaking. 

If  it  is  right  to  distinguish  a  state  still  higher  on  the  scale  than  this 
of  moral  quality,  and  call  it  the  spiritual  state,  as  contrasted  with  the 
moral  and  ethical  (and  I  think  there  is  such  a  higher  degree),that  will  be 
found  to  be  the  quality  the  period  between  whose  cause  and  efiect  will 
be  the  longest — and  indeed  generally  so  long  that  the  rising  of  the  star 

\ 


354  PATIENCE. 

thereof  may  be  seen,  but  not  the  setting.  The  causes,  for  the  most 
part,  ojierate  in  tliis  life,  and  the  effects,  for  the  most  part,  are  dehiyed 
until  the  life  which  is  to  come.  So  that  the  highest  class  of  effects 
which  we  seek,  we  seek  patiently  all  through  this  world ;  but  we  never 
see  more  than  intimations  of  the  fulfillment  that  is  to  come  ripely, 
richly,  after  we  enter  a  better  clime. 

Here,  then,  is  a  brief  delineation  of  this  spiritual  law  of  gi'owth 
and  labor.     I  will  make  some  applications  of  it. 

1.  In  a  new  religious  life,  all  reformations  which  are  physical  in  their 
Jiature  should  be  speedy.  A  great  many  persons,  because  they  hear 
men  declaring,  in  describing  Christian  influence,  that  growth  in  grace 
is  a  gradual  ju'ocess,  say,  "  Well,  it  is.  Lying  and  stealing  and  drunken- 
ness are  to  be  gradually  put  down.  Although  I  am  a  Christian,  I 
admit  that  I  do  steal  a  little  yet ;  but  then,  my  minister  tells  me  that 
progress  in  the  new  life  is  slow ;  that  there  is  a  great  journey  between 
the  cause  and  the  effect."  But  we  ought  not  to  reason  thus.  Refor- 
mation has  relation  to  the  lowest  sphere  in  which  a  man  acts — to 
animal,  bodily  things ;  to  all  those. things  which  relate  to  the  flesh. 
In  these  things  there  is  but  a  short  sj)ace  between  cause  and  effect, 
and  all  reformations  that  involve  the  body,  or  the  bodily  appetites, 
are  to  be  immediately  wrought.  Evils  in  this  sphere  are  to  be  cured 
at  once.  Absolute  and  total  discontinuance  is  the  law  for  the  flesh. 
There  is  to  be  no  wide  space  here  between  the  beginning  and  the 
ending.  Where  the  nature  of  the  quality  is  of  the  earth  earthy,  where 
it  is  a  reformation  of  morals,  the  effects  produced  are  to  be  immediate, 
instantaneous ;  results  are  to  be  arrived  at  and  reached  without  delay. 
Not  that  the  tendency  to  evil  will  be  obliterated  at  once,  but  the  yield- 
ing to  that  tendency  must  not  be  continued.  "  Let  him  that  stole, 
steal  no  more"— not  once — not  a  single  time.  Let  him  that  lied,  lie 
no  more.  Let  him  that  drank,  drink  no  more.  Let  him  that  lusted, 
lust  no  more.  Whatever  may  be  the  heaving  of  the  ground  as  with 
eternal  volcanic  forces,  let  there  be  no  eruptions — no  disclosures.  A 
man  who  begins  a  Christian  life  must  recollect  that,  so  far  as  the  body 
is  concerned,  the  law  is,  that  there  is  but  a  very  short  space  between 
cause  and  effect  in  the  lower  elements  of  it. 

2.  But  the  strictly  religious  elements  go  on.  These  are  the  ele- 
ments of  negation — those  which  involve  leaving  off  and  not  doing. 
The  moment  you  enter  upon  the  sphere  of  the  higher  elements  of 
religious  experience,  which  is  the  sphere  of  change  or  development, 
the  results  cannot  be  immediate.  The  term  between  cause  and  effect 
will  vary  in  duration  with  the  peculiar  advantages  which  diffei-ent  per- 
sons have  ;  with  the  peculiar  susceptibilities  of  different  persons  ;  with 
the  intensity  of  inspiration  which  is  brought  to  bear  upon  them,  and 


PATIENCE.  355 

nndoi-  which  they  are  called  to  act ;  yet  growth  in  grace  Is,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  a  gradual  growth.  Every  single  step  upward  ini2)lies 
and  requires  the  harmonization  of  all  the  elements  below  in  a  man's 
nature,  and  in  his  surroundings ;  and  that  often  is  comprehensive  and 
very  dithcult.  Not  only  is  all  growth  in  grace  gradual  \\hich  implies 
development  of  the  higher  nature,  but  you  must  make  up  your  mind 
that  you  will  oftentimes  set  in  operation  courses  which  will  finally 
fulfill  themselves  and  disclose  beneficial  efiects.  You  will  set  them  in 
operation ;  and  then  you  will  have  to  wait  a  great  while  before  you 
come  to  the  result.  And  you  are  not  to  be  discouraged  because  in 
laboring  for  spiritual  qualities  you  do  not  find  them  as  soon  as  you 
could  wish. 

You  say  to  yourself,  "  TVhen  I  began  a  Christian  life,  I  seemed  to 
grow  very  fast.  It  seemed  to  me  that  every  day  I  could  see  some  im- 
provement. But  I  have  gone  on  four  or  five  years,  and  it  seems  to 
me  that  I  have  come  to  a  stop.  I  do  not  see  that  I  make  any  im- 
provement at  all,  now."  Well,  you  do  not  recognize  the  fact  that  when 
you  began,  the  steps  which  you  had  to  make  were  for  the  most  part 
physical  steps,  and  that  the  law  of  disclosure  in  the  physical  realm  is 
rapid ;  and  that  when  you  have  passed  from  that  realm  and  come  to 
the  higher  elements  in  the  realm  of  larger  Christian  development,  you 
have  come  into  a  si:)here  where  the  law  is,  that  there  must  be  a  wider 
space  between  cause  and  eflfect ;  that  there  is  moi'e  time  required  to 
ripen  the  fruit ;  that  a  longer  summer  is  necessary  for  the  various  stages 
of  development  ? 

And  so  a  man  ought  not  to  be  discouraged.  I  do  not  mean  that  a 
man  in  his  dissipation  may  not  pervert  this  J;ruth ;  but  those  who  are 
conscientious  and  earnest  about  a  Christian  life,  need  not  be  dis- 
couraged because  they  do  not  get  along  as  fast  as  they  did  in  the 
beginning,  provided  the  qualities  which  they  are  attempting  to  take  on 
are  the  higher  qualities.  For  these  qualities  require  long  drill ;  and  he 
who  attains  to  them  must  go  through  a  great  deal  of  practice.  A  man 
caimot  say  to  his  temper  what  he  can  say  to  his  body.  A  shrew,  being 
converted,  can  hold  her  hand  so  as  not  to  beat  the  child.  And  a  little 
later  she  can  control  her  tongue,  so  as  not  to  scold  the  servant,  perhaps. 
And  by-and-by  she  can  manage  her  temper ;  but  that  takes  nuich 
longer.  And  at  last  she  develops  a  spontaneous  emotion  of  kindness 
where  before  there  was  temper ;  and  that  takes  longer  yet.  But  still, 
there  is  a  regular  progress  allthe  way  up.  And  although  there  seems  to 
be  but  little  progress  made,  many  persons  actually  cover  a  sphere  so 
much  wider,  and  there  is  so  much  contained  in  the  little  which  they  do, 
that  they  really,  in  the  sight  of  God,  are  lifted  far  higher  than  they  are  , 
in  their  own  sight,  because  they  are  always  looking  to  see  physical  re« 


356  TATIENCE, 

suits — results  that  the  eye  can  measure,  or  that  the  outward  senses  can 
recognize,  instead  of  the  hidden  elements  of  moral  excellence. 

]\Liny  of  the  experiences  of  human  life — its  sorrows,  its  aspirations, 
its  self-denials,  its  severe  tasks — are  ripening  elements  in  us  that  will 
not  apjiear  in  any  individuality  and  distinctness  at  first,  or  until  late 
in  life.  Many  persons  go  under  the  cloud,  and  think  that  they  shall 
come  out  all  right  on  the  other  side.  As  a  man,  going  into  a  bath, 
soiled  and  heated,  comes  out  from  the  refluent  wave  cleansed  and  cool ; 
so  men  think  they  shall  go  through  troubles  and  trials,  which  are  God's 
great  baths  for  the  soul,  and  that  they  shall  come  out  speedily  on  the 
other  side,  and  that  they  shall  recognize  that  they  have  been  improved. 
But  where  God  is  dealing  with  our  higher  nature,  we  are  assured  by 
the  Apostle  Paul,  he  is  dealing  with  us  as  tcith  sons.  "Now  are  we 
the  sons  of  God,"  says  the  Apostle  John.  And  if  we  are  the  sons  of 
God,  Paul  declares,  reasoning  on  this  very  same  theme,  God  will  deal 
with  us  by  chastisements.  And  he  tells  us  that  our  faith  is  not  to  fail 
because,  when  we  have  taken  such  and  such  steps,  and  fulfilled  the 
will  of  God,  the  answer  does  not  come.  We  have  need  of  patience, 
after  we  have  done  the  will  of  God,  before  we  reach  the  results. 
God  is  dealing  with  men  by  difficulties,  by  tasks,  by  bereavements,  by 
sorrows,  by  trials,  to  prove  the  higher  part  of  their  nature. 

Give  me,  now,  a  bit  of  wax,  and  see  how  soon  I  will  take  it  in  my 
hand  and  mould  it  into  any  form  that  I  want.  Give  me  a  bit  of 
alabaster,  and  I  cannot  work  that  as  I  carl  the  wax,  because  it  is 
harder.  Give  me  a  bit  of  marble  and  that  must  be  cut  more  slowly. 
But  give  me  a  diamond,  rough  and  rude,  and  tell  me  to  cut  the  faces 
on  that,  by  which  it  shall  reflect  all  the  rays  of  light  and  show  its 
hidden  powers  of  beauty,  and  it  is  a  long  task.  Yet  though  it  is  a 
long  task  to  cut  a  diamond,  when  it  is  once  cut  it  is  worth  all  the 
labor  that  it  has  cost.  Wax  is  quickly  done,  but  it  is  of  very  little 
use  after  it  is  done.  A  diamond,  on  the  other  hand,  is  long  in  doing, 
and  once  done  it  lasts  forever. 

Now,  the  lower  developments  that  men  gain  in  this  world — in- 
dustiy  and  frugality  and  skill  of  hand — are  gained  comparatively  soon, 
and  they  are  comparatively  in  the  lower  range ;  but  those  higher  ele- 
ments, where  men  really  touch  God,  and  where  theii-  morality  begins 
to  blossom,  and  where  they  begin  to  find  the  first  intimations  of  their 
own  true  manhood,  and  where  they  begin  to  linow  the  life  that  is  to  have 
no  death,  and  no  intermediate  sleep,  but  is  to  flame  and  glow  in  the 
presence  of  God — those  elements  God  works  out  slowly.  They  coma 
under  a  law  which  requires  a  long  period  of  time  for  their  development. 

We  are  not,  therefore,  to  suppose  that  God  is  angry  with  us  be- 


PATIENCE.  357 

cause  Ave  have  blow  upon  blow,   and  gi-inding  upon  grinding,  and 
stroke  upon  stroke,  day  after  day.     lie  deals  with  us  as  with  sons. 

How  little  we  know  about  this!  How  little  we  know  what  is  being 
done  to  us!  How  little  we  know  concerning  ourselves  at  anyrate! 
How  one  day  it  is  all  clear  inside  !  and  how  the  next  day  it  is  like  a 
stormy  sky  outside,  all  clouds,  all  doubts,  all  uncertainty.  "  Now," 
says  the  apostle,  "  are  we  the  sons  of  God" — he  was  sure  of  that — 
"  and  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be."  We  do  not  know 
what  beinff  the  sons  of  God  means.  We  do  not  know  how  that  is  going 
to  open  up ;  we  do  not  know  what  the  disclosures  are  going  to  be ;  we 
do  not  know  the  glory,  the  beauty,  the  joy,  the  fullness  and  the  power 
of  it.  It  is  station,  rank,  dignity,  connection ;  but  we  do  not  know 
what  any  of  those  things  are.  We  only  know  that  when  we  see  Him 
as  He  is,  we  shall  be  satisfied.  It  will  be  enough.  We  do  not  know 
what  God  is  bringing  us  to.  We  do  not  understand  the  pattern  and 
shape  in  which  we  are  being  fiishioned.  All  we  know  is,  that  God  is 
bringing  us  through  trouble,  and,  if  we  bear  it  bravely  and  patiently, 
we  know  that  He  is  dealing  with  us  as  with  sons,  and  that  we  are 
going  on  to  the  mysterious  grandeur  and  character  of  divinity.  We 
know  that  we  were  born  out  of  the  dust ;  and  that  we  are  rearing  an 
imperfect  manhood ;  and  that  we  are  carrying  it  on  through  the 
economy  of  grace  and  providence  in  this  world ;  and  that  at  last 
death  shall  cut  us  away  from  the  stalk  where  we  have  ripened  the 
seed  and  the  cluster;  and  that  we  shall  go  on,  freed  from  the  pas- 
sions and  the  animal  economy,  and  from  that  which  becomes  in  the 
higher  state  a  limitation  and  obstruction  of  the  spuitual  nature.  But 
we  know  very  little  of  all  that.  There  is  a  great  part  of  God's  provi- 
dence that  must  always  be  mysterious  to  us — for  that  is  the  term  by 
which  we  speak  of  ignorance. 

In  laboring  for  others,  therefore,  we  ought  to  bear  in  mind  this 
principle,  that  pei-petually  we  are  to  carry  along  together  both  the 
physical  and  the  moral  development  of  the  world ;  and  that  he  who 
lays  out  his  work  so  as  to  see  the  result  as  he  goes  along,  nuist,  of 
necessity,  be  a  low  worker.  Nobody  sees  the  results  of  what  he  is 
doing  unless  he  is  woi-king  very  low  down.  He  that  sees  at  the  end 
of  the  day  all  that  he  has  done  during  the  day,  has  done  very  little. 
He  that  is  a  true  woj-ker  is  always  throwing  effects  over  beyond 
himself  to  which  he  will  not  come  for  months,  or  for  years,  it  may  be. 
A  man  who  plants  lettuce  may  plant  it  to-day,  and,  if  it  be  rainy  and 
warm,  he  may  perhaps  to-morrow  see  that  it  has  sprouted  ;  and  he  may 
in  two  or  three  weeks  eat  it.  But  it  is  only  lettuce.  A  man  who 
plants  acorns  does  not  run  out  the  next  morning  to  see  what  thcy.^ 
Lave  done.     He  does  not  expect  to  see  any  signs  of  their  gi'owth  until 


358  PATIENCE. 

weeks  and  months  have  passed.  It  is  not  until  they  have  lain  under 
ground  all  winter  long,  and  been  mellowed  by  the  frosts,  that  they 
begin  to  sprout.  And  if  the  next  summer  they  grow  six  inches  high 
they  do  well.  And  after  twenty  years  they  will  not  be  much  higher 
than  your  head.  And  after  fifty  years  they  will  only  be  small  trees. 
But  after  a  hundred  years  have  gone  by,  they  will  be  fit  for  ships,  and 
will  stand  for  centuries.  It  takes  time  for  oak  trees  to  grow  ;  but  it 
does  not  take  very  much  time  for  mushrooms  to  grow.  And  yet,  there 
are  many  who  measure  what  they  are  doing  by  what  they  can  report. 
They  go  out  with  garrulity  in  the  morning,  and  come  back  with  statis- 
tics at  night.  You  can  tell  exactly  where  such  folks  work,  and  how 
they  work.  But  he  who  has  faith  and  insight,  and  on  whom  the  power 
of  God  rests,  and  who  is  working,  not  for  the  low  and  material,  but  for 
the  spiritual  and  everlasting,  very  soon  finds  out  that  he  pats  forth  an 
amount  of  strength  altogether  disproportioned  to  the  results  which  he 
beholds.  There  is  a  desire,  there  is  a  thought,  there  is  a  will-power, 
there  is  a  labor,  that  has  no  sort  of  return  in  proportion  to  what  it  has 
done  ;  and  he  grows  discouraged,  and  thinks  he  has  thrown  his  efibrts 
away.  But  no,  he  is  working  in  directions  which,  according  to  the 
everlasting  law  of  God,  require  time.  And  he  is  a  true  worker  who, 
after  he  has  done  the  will  of  God,  has  patience  till  he  receives  the  pro- 
mised reward — the  legitimate  efiect. 

This  comes  home  to  parents.  There  are  parents  who  say,  **  How 
much  I  have  labored  with  that  child !  and  with  Avhat  discouraging  re- 
sults !  There  are  my  neighbors — they  have  no  trouble  at  all  with  their 
children ;  but  my  children,  it  seems  to  me,  are  bound  to  the  gallows 
or  the  jail."  Now,  you  take  a  child  that  is  knit  from  single  threads; 
take  a  child  that  has  no  particular  force,  and  that  is  reasonably  well 
balanced,  and  it  is  not  hard  to  bring  him  up ;  for  a  little  effort  here 
and  there  is  sufiicient  to  turn  him.  A  man  can  put  his  hand  at  tha 
spout  of  a  watering-pot  and  turn  the  stream  here,  or  there,  or  any- 
where ;  but  let  a  man  turn  Niagara  with  his  hand  if  he  can. 

Here  is  a  child  that  has  intensity  in  him.  He  has  big  basilar,  big 
intermediate  and  coronal  forces;  and  all  these  forces  are  undeveloped; 
and  the  parent  does  not  understand  the  child.  He  is  like  one  that  is 
throwing  missiles  over  into  a  garden  whose  walls  are  so  high  that  he 
cannot  see  what  they  hit.  The  instruction  that  the  parent  throws  into 
the  child  sometimes  has  the  desu-ed  efiect,  and  sometimes  does  not 
And  after  a  few  years  it  seems  to  the  parent  as  though  he  never 
could  do  anything  with  the  child,  he  is  so  wayward  and  inconstant. 
He  is  not  a  Sunday-school  boy  at  all.  He  is  not  fit  to  have  his  life 
written  and  put  into  a  libraiy.  But  he  is  just  as  nimble  as  a  grass- 
hopper.    He  runs  and  jumps  first,  and  then  considers  where  he  lands. 


rATIEFCE,  ~  359 

lie  fills  the  house  full  of  misrule  and  disturbance.  And  the  most 
amusing  thing  of  the  whole  is,  to  seethe  mother  moaning  and  grieving 
and  worrying  about  the  child.  The  child  would  do  very  well  if  the 
mother  would  let  it  alone.  Let  her  wait.  It  takes  a  great  while 
to  unfold  a  nature,  if  it  be  a  lai  ge  nature.  Have  patience.  Believe 
and  understand  that  the  lower  things  can  be  speedily  done ;  but  that 
the  intermediate  afiections  require  a  long  time  for  their  development ; 
and  that  the  higher  moial  nature  requires  a  still  longer  time.  Have 
faith  in  God.  Work,  work,  and  wait !  Do  not  remit  any  work  ;  but 
the  woriy — remit  that. 

And  in  laboring  for  classes,  and  individuals  belonging  to  classes,  in 
parishes  and  communities,  we  are  to  remember  that  while  we  can  do  a 
great  deal,  the  results  of  which  will  appear  at  once,  yet  there  is  a  great 
deal  that  we  can  do  without  seeing  any  immediate  results.  We  can 
get  up  schools,  and  build  exterior  churches,  and  organize  benevolent* 
societies,  and  do  a  thousand  other  physical  things,  and  measure  the 
progress  of  our  work  as  we  go  along ;  but  the  moment  we  attempt  to 
take  a  whole  community,  with  their  mixed  dispositions,  and  peculiar 
educations,  and  in  the  midst  of  all  the  diverse  influences  that  are  play  • 
ing  upon  them,  for  one,  and  against  another,  and  lift  them  up  to  a 
higher  level,  we  find,  especially  if  they  have  been  abused,  maltreated 
and  wrongly  educated,  that  they  are  knotted  and  tied  up  in  difi*erent 
ways. 

A  man  may  think  that  if  he  lives  to  the  age  of  Methuselah,  and  la- 
bors for  the  reformation  of  the  community  in  which  he  lives,  he  ought 
to  see  it  thoroughly  changed.  If  he  thoroughly  changes  the  community 
in  which  he  lives,  even  by  living  to  so  great  an  age  as  that,  he  does  a 
quick  work.  Pyramids  may  be  built  and  forgotten  before  you  can 
build  up  a  community  into  the  higher  forms  of  spuitual  wisdom  and 
purity.  Only  once  or  twice  in  the  whole  history  of  the  world  have 
there  been  conjunctions  even  in  which  single  sections  lived  in  such  a 
way  as  to  rise  to  a  high  degree  of  moral  and  spiritual  perfection.  And 
men  who  labor  for  the  elevation  of  the  masses  are  apt  to  become  dis- 
couraged. They  sow  seed,  and  then  look  for  the  result,  and  do  not  see 
the  fruit  which  they  expected.  They  sow  expecting  to  reap  angels,  and 
look,  and  do  not  see  them.  And  then  they  are  discouraged.  They 
think  that  the  Lord  has  not  called  them,  and  that  it  is  of  no  use  for 
\them  to  work. 

Ye  have  need  of  patience,  thai  after  ye  have  dojie  the  will  of  God, 
ye  might  receive  the  reioard ;  and  the  better  your  work  is,  the  more 
surely  will  it  bring  forth  fruit. 

Do  not  take  what  I  have  been  saying,  for  your  comfort,  old  lazy 
hunks,  stupid,  indolent  waiter  on  God,  who  do  nothing,  and  say  that 


360  PATIENCE. 

you  are  waiting  for  the  final  results.  Not  for  you  am  I  preaching  this 
discourse.  But  all  ye  that  labor ;  all  ye  that  have  soul-throes  ;  all  ye 
that  tarry  at  prayer  for  those  whom  you  love  ;  all  ye  that  have  laid  on 
you  the  burden  of  the  Lord,  and  go,  as  Paul  did,  in  travail  until  men 
are  born  again  in  Christ,  take  this  comfort  to  yourselves,  that  the  work 
which  you  are  doing  is  a  work  which  cannot  in  the  nature  of  things  be 
done  in  a  hurry.  And  when  you  die  you  will  find  that  your  work  will 
follow  you.  That  which  you  have  begun  will  not  be  comi>leted  for  gen- 
erations. If  I  have  been  a  good  workman,  my  work  will  go  on  fulfilling 
itself,  and  my  part  of  it  will  not  be  completed  in  a  hundred  years.  And 
if  I  stand  in  heaven,  in  the  infinite  love  and  mercy  of  my  Saviour,  I 
shall  see  coming  up,  in  long  sequence,  the  results  of  things  which  I  be- 
gan— the  fruits  of  the  seeds  which  I  sowed.  Their  blossoms  shall  be 
sweet  and  fragrant  centuries  hereafter  in  the  heavenly  land.  He  who 
has  faith  to  work  for  the  invisible,  shall,  when  he  di-aws  near  to  the 
other  life,  and  more  and  more  as  he  comes  into  the  influence  of  that 
higher  sphere  (for,  as  we  work,  if  we  do  nothing  else,  we  reproduce  in 
ourselves,  more  or  less,  the  very  qualities  which  we  are  seeking  to 
infix  in  others)  gain  an  insight  into,  a  perception  of,  this  blessed  truth. 

And  so,  hard-working  brethren — ye  that  have  borne  the  burden 
and  heat  of  the  day — when  the  word  comes,  "Cast  aside,  now,  your 
workmen's  garments,  change  your  implements,  come  up  hither,"  you 
will  have  been  jorepared,  by  working,  to  do  better  work.  And  in  the 
higher  sphere,  when  you  rise  and  come  into  the  presence  of  God,  and 
see  what  manhood  means,  all  your  discouragements  will  pass  aAvay. 

I  think  there  will  be  some  laughing  in  heaven.  Unless  there  is, 
there  is  no  use  of  laughing.  I  think  men  will  laugh  when  they  look 
back  and  see  how  many  things  that  they  thought  were  troubles,  were 
not  troubles.  I  think  men  will  laugh  when  they  look  back  and  see 
what  things  seemed  to  them  cares  and  burdens.  I  think  men  wUl 
laugh  when  they  look  back  and  see  what  things  scared  them. 

I  remember,  once,  when  I  was  threading  a  Western  forest,  that  as, 
at  twiUght,  I  came  toward  a  little  opening,  I  saw  a  man  lurking  on 
the  edge  of  the  forest,  with  a  rifle  drawn  at  me.  Although  I  was  a 
really  brave  man,  my  blood  ran  coM.  There  I  was,  sitting  up  on  the 
horse,  a  fair  mark  for  a  man  that  was  standing  and  taking  deadly 
aim  at  me  ;  and  I  Avas  at  a  great  disadvantage.  I  did  not  laugh,  for  I 
had  not  got  over  my  shock,  when  I  came  up  to  the  spot  and  found, 
instead  of  a  man  with  a  rifle,  only  a  tree  with  a  branch  pointing 
toward  me ;  but  afterwards  I  laughed,  to  think  what  I  had  been  so 
frightened  at,  and  what  a  shock  it  sent  through  me. 

When  men  get  to  heaven,  and  find  what  many  of  those  things 
were  which  stood  aiming  at  them  in  this  life ;  when  they  find  what  sort 


PATIENCE.  361 

of  make-believe  dangers  those  were  which  threatened  them,  I  think 
they  will  laugh.  There  will  be  a  revelation  and  a  revolution  there, 
when  we  shall  no  longer  see  men  as  trees  walking,  but  when  we  shall 
be  as  God,  and  see  him  as  he  is — not  through  a  glass,  darkly,  but  face 
to  face.  How  then,  will  all  things  be  changed !  And  we  shall  look 
back  on  the  vision  of  life,  and  all  its  fantastic  imaginings,  with  wonder 
and  gladness — with  sorrow  for  ourselves,  but  with  joy  and  gratitude 
to  God,  who  brought  us  through  the  dangers  of  the  way,  and  finally 
saved  us. 

Brethren,  be  patient.  Do  the  will  of  God,  aim  high,  work  hard ; 
and  then  have  patience.  By-and-by  the  reward  will  come.  Wait. 
If  you  have  to  wait  till  you  get  it  in  heaven,  it  will  be  there.  No 
man  shall  do  anything  in  this  world  and  lose  his  reward.  Fkst  or  last 
it  shall  come  to  harvest. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

We  acknowledge  thee  to  be  our  God,  O  thou  most  High  !  Our  Father 
and  our  God,  thou  hast  redeemed  us  from  sin,  and  art  redeeming  us  from 
the  love  of  it.  Thou  hast  awakened  in  us  a  new  life  which  is  reaching  up 
toward  thine ;  and  we  are  becoming  new  creatures  in  Christ  Jesus.  And 
though  the  work  be  long  we  discern  not  its  progress,  nor  its  symmetry,  nor  its 
harmony,  nor  its  fruit,  but  only  its  promise.  And  we  wait  with  patience  to 
discern  by-and-by,  and  in  a  fairer  clime,  what  that  seed  shall  bring  forth 
which  thou  hast  planted  in  our  hearts.  Yet,  on  the  way  we  rejoice.  We 
discern  enough  to  fill  us  with  hope.  We  reach  forward,  content  and  patient, 
believing  that  thou  wilt  reveal,  in  thine  own  time,  the  fullness  of  thy  work, 
and  that  in  heaven  it  shall  appear  what  we  shall  be,  though  not  here.  Now 
we  see  through  a  glass,  darkly.  Then  we  shall  see  face  to  face.  It  is  mys- 
terious here.  We  are  ignorant,  and  thou  hast  not  taught  us.  We  know  not 
the  meaning  of  much  that  happens.  Our  own  sufferings  fill  us  with  sur- 
prise; and  we  do  not  know  how  to  direct  them  so  that  they  shall  be  profit- 
able to  us.  And  we  find  ourselves  striving,  often  vainly,  with  elements  that 
have  not  sprung  from  our  will.  We  meet  strange  providences.  We  behold, 
as  it  were,  mighty  influences  at  work,  and  crossing  our  path — sometimes 
dark,  and  sometimes  light;  and  we  are  afraid  of  them.  And  we  are  as  little 
children  set  adrift  upon  a  sea  whose  currents  they  do  not  understand,  and 
cannot  control,  and  swept  hither  and  thither,  not  according  to  their  wish, 
but  according  to  the  will  of  the  immediate  influences  round  about  them. 
And  yet,  there  is  a  guiding  Hand.  There  is  an  Eye  that  slumbers  not,  nor 
sleeps.  And  though  on  the  sea  of  life  we  are  drifted,  so  far  as  we  are  con- 
cerned,by  irresistibleinfluences,  all  things  are  possible  to  thee,  and  thou  art 
guiding  us,  and  thou  art  overcoming  the  evil  tendencies  for  us,  and  shaping 
us,  and  all  our  voyage, to  the  final  estate  of  blessedness. 

We  desire,  O  Lord  our  God,  to  trust  thee.  We  desire  not  to  judge  thee 
by  our  lower  reason,  which  cannot  reach  up  unto  thine.  We  see  the  ends  of 
thy  ways,  as  if  they  were  let  down  to  us;  and  looking  up  we  behold  but 
the  lower  link  of  the  chain.     Above,  up  to  thine  hand,  is  itll  hidden. 

We  rejoice  that  thou  art  supreme,  and  that  in  thee  is  our  hope.     Because- 


362  PATIENCE. 

thou  livest,  we  shall  live  also.  And  in  this  hope  we  are  patient  in  tribula- 
tion, and  we  bear  our  labor,  and  endure  our  care,  and  go  on,  waiting  con- 
tentedly until  the  word  shall  come,  and  we  shall  be  permitted  to  go  home. 
Grant  that  we  may  have  this  saving  sense  of  thy  presence  with  us  all  the 
way.  May  we  have  this  fruition.  If  we  cannot  come  to  feel  a  perfect  man- 
hood in  Christ  Jesus  toward  which  we  are  tending,  may  we  at  least  have  the 
shadow  of  that  manhood  resting  upon  us.  May  we  discern  thee  every  day, 
and  always,  and  rejoice  in  thee  when  we  cannot  rejoice  in  ourselves.  Bless 
us  in  our  service  to-day  together;  in  our  fellowship  one  with  another;  in  our 
affections.  Sanctify  our  joys  at  home.  Sanctify  to  us  all  our  experiences. 
May  we  bear  whatever  thou  in  thy  providence  seest  fit  to  put  upon  us,  with 
equanimity  and  with  patience.  And  grant  that  we  may  go  on  thus  to  the 
end  of  life,  proving  ourselves  indeed  thy  children. 

Bless  all  congregations  that  are  assembled  to-day.  May  thy  servants 
who  preach  the  Gospel  be  clothed  with  power  from  on  high,  and  be  enabled 
to  preach  with  sincerity  and  with  truth. 

We  pray  that  thou  will  grant  that  the  truth  may  be  spread  abroad 
throughout  our  land,  and  throughout  the  world.  When  shall  the  day  come 
when  slavery  shall  cease  everywhere !  When  shall  the  day  come  when  igno- 
rance and  superstition  and  irreligion  shall  pass  away  ?  Hasten  the  day 
when  men  shall  be  cruel  to  men  no  longer ;  when  wars  shall  no  longer  deso- 
late ;  when  all  the  earth  shall  be  ripened  into  true  holiness. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son  and  Spirit.    Amm. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 


Our  Father,  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  word  spoken  ;  and  grant 
that  we  may  have  courage  to  go  on  again  for  ourselves,  in  our  own  disposi- 
tions ;  in  our  households,  for  our  children ;  in  our  schools  and  classes,  for 
those  committed  to  our  charge ;  in  the  world  at  large.  May  we  not  doubt 
nor  measure  dangers  or  successes  by  the  lower  rules  of  life.  May  we  live 
by  faith.  May  we  have  thy  higher  and  nobler  judgment.  Being  near  thee, 
may  we  borrow  something  of  thy  wisdom,  to  illuminate  the  doubful  path  of 
experience,  until  the  shadows  depart,  and  thou  dost  become  our  Teacher  in 
the  heavenly  land ;  where  we  will  praise  thee,  Father.  Son  and  Spirit.  Amen, 


XXT. 

"  My  Yoke  is  Easy.'' 


"MY  YOKE  IS  EASY." 


*'  And  his  commandments  are  not  grievous." — 1  Jko.,  V.  8. 


The  whole  passage  is  this : 

*'  For  this  is  the  love  of  God,  that  we  keep  his  commandments ;  and 
his  commandments  are  not  grievous." 

This  is  contrary  to  the  popular  impression.  If  by  keeping  his 
commandments  is  meant  the  leading  of  a  religious  life,  then  it  coun- 
tervails a  very  widely  prevalent  feeling,  that  though  a  religious  life  may 
be  more  honorable,  and  more  safe,  and  ultimately  more  profitable,  and 
by-and-by,  in  its  own  way,  more  joyful,  yet,  in  its  inception,  for  the 
most  part,  in  this  world,  it  is  grievous,  and  that  it  is  fitly  said  to  be  a 
yoke,  to  be  a  restraint  of  liberty.  And  as  "  religion  "  means  binding, 
restraining,  tying  up,  so  men  are  apt  to  feel,  not  perhaps  with  any 
etymological  information  on  that  subject,  but  from  other  sources 
which  I  shall  mention,  that  a  religious  life  is  not  an  easy  one,  and  is  not^ 
on  the  whole,  to  be  compared,  for  freedom  or  joyousness,  with  a  natural 
life,  provided  that  that  natural  life  is  pleasurable,  and  is  conducted 
with  a  reasonable  degree  of  considei'ation  and  moderation. 

But  here  we  have  an  appeal  substantially  made  to  our  reason,  in  this 
matter.  The  declaration  that  the  commandments  of  God  on  which 
we  are  to  stand  aa'e  not  grievous,  is  substantially  an  argument  pro- 
pounded ;  and  we  are  at  liberty  to  reason  it. 

I  remark,  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  a  religious  life — by  which  we 
mean  a  life  based  upon  the  supreme  commands  of  God,  as  they  are  re- 
vealed in  Scripture — ^is  not  grievous,  in  that  it  does  not  require  of  man 
artificial  duties,  but  is,  in  the  highest  and  best  sense  of  the  term,  the 
requirement  of  that  which  is  natural. 

We  are  not  required  either  to  do  or  to  forbear  things  which  are 
not  in  accordance  with  our  organization — our  physical,  social  and 
moral  organization.  "We  are  not  put  to  do  things  which  are  diflicult 
as  requuing  us  to  turn  aside  any  of  our  faculties,  or  to  task  them  un- 
duly, according  to  their  nature. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  are  not  required  to  fulfill  artificial  obliga- 
tions and  duties.     This  was  not  always  so.      It  could  scai'cely  have 

St'nday  EvENiNo,  Jnly  31,  1870.  The  Inst  Bervice  before  the  gnramer  yaoation.  LsssONi 
Iba.  XX VL  1-9.    iiviUNS  (Plymouth  CuUcotiou) :  Nua.  1321,  905,  Vi!i>l. 


364  ''MT  YOKE  18  east:'' 

been  said  under  the  Mosaic  economy,  "  His  commandments  are  rot 
grievous," — are  not  burdensome ;  because  the  worship  which  was  or- 
dained by  Moses  for  the  people  of  Israel  was  a  burdensome  worship. 
Experience  shows  that  in  time  it  became  too  burdensome ;  and  not  only 
that,  but  that  it  could  not  be  carried  on  without  so  distracting  men 
from  the  natural  to  the  artificial  that  they  would  go  to  the  artificial  in 
distinction  from  the  natural — the  true  natural. 

Now,  as  interpreted  by  Christ,  religion  does  not  stand  in  any  forms 
whatever,  nor  in  any  special  philosophical  faiths.  It  certainly  requires 
our  belief  in  the  existence  of  a  God.  It  requires  that  we  should  be- 
lieve in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It  requires  faith  and  trust  and  obe- 
dience. But  it  does  not  require  that  we  should  believe  in  one  church 
or  another  church.  It  does  not  requne  that  we  should  believe  in  the 
creed  of  one  church  as  distinguished  fi'om  the  creed  of  another  church. 
And  still  less  does  it  impose  upon  us  onerous  fasts.  Nor  does  it  re- 
quire of  us  the  observance  of  multiplied  days.  It  has  absolutely  nothing 
to  do  with  methods.  It  leaves  those  to  a  man's  own  discrimination. 
Religion  requires  simply  this:  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
wiih  all  thy  heart,  mind,  soul,  stre7igth,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself. 
Devout  love  and  disinterested  benevolence — these  are  what  religion  re- 
quu-es  of  every  man.  And  how  he  shall  come  to  these ;  how  each  man 
in  his  particular  circumstances  shall  practice  them — that  is  left  for  the 
co-ordinated  wisdom  of  men  to  find  out. 

The  command  is  not  grievous  in  this,  that  it  says,  "  So  many  days ; 
so  many  readings  of  the  Bible ;  so  many  prayers ;  so  many  fasts ;  so 
many  confessions ;  so  many  duties  of  this  or  that  kind,  either  of  avoid- 
ance or  performance."  There  is  nothing  of  that.  All  artificial  elements 
are  swept  out  of  the  Word  of  God ;  and  the  command  stands  simply 
in  respect  to  the  great  essential  naturals.  We  are  to  have  a  "con- 
science void  of  ofience."  We  are  to  have  a  reason  that  shall  be  parallel 
with  the  great  truths  which  God  has  revealed  in  his  Word,  and  is  re- 
vealing in  his  providence.  We  are  to  have  a  heart  that  shall  be  sensi- 
tive. We  are  to  live  with  a  love  that  shall  be  supreme  towai'd  God, 
and  unselfish  toward  men. 

These  are  the  commands  of  God,  and  these  are  commands  of  things 
that  are  natural,  and  not  artificial.  The  external  forms  of  religion  may 
have  an  importance ;  but  still  they  are  not  of  such  importance  that  if 
one  take  them  or  reject  them  it  will  make  any  dhBTerence  in  the  sight  of 
God. 

A  man  may  sit  with  the  quiet  Quaker,  and  absolutely  refuse  all 
physical  exposition  and  form  ;  or  he  may  sit  with  the  sonorous  Method- 
ist, and  demand  that  there  shall  be  the  utmost  latitude  of  expression, 
but  of  nothing  more ;  or  he  may  sit  with  the  High  Churchman,  and  re- 


"j/F  YOKE  IS  EAsry  365 

quire  that  every  single  thing  in  religion  shall  have  a  symbolism,  and 
that  men  shall  go  through  processions,  and  observe  days,  and  wear 
garments,  and  have  all  manner  of  liturgical  forms.  That  is  your  liberty 
— not  your  necessity.  Any  man  can  do  it  that  wants  to,  and  that 
profits  by  it ;  and  no  man  need  do  it  who  does  not  want  to.  That  will 
make  no  difference,  so  that  a  man  shall  land  in  Jerusalem.  He  may 
go  to  it  from  the  north,  or  he  may  go  to  it  from  Joppa,  on  the  west, 
or  he  may  go  to  it  from  Syria,  on  the  east.  He  may  take  whatever 
road  he  pleases.  Some  roads  are  much  more  pleasant  than  others ;  but 
he  may  go  over  the  mountain,  or  through  the  gorge  ;  he  may  go  upon 
the  traveled  way  or  across  the  wilderness  ;  he  may  act  his  own  pleasure 
about  how  he  goes ;  only  let  his  feet  at  last  stand  in  Zion,  and  before 
God. 

The  commands  of  God  are,  not  that  we  shall  do  so  many  things,  and 
do  them  so  often,  and  observe  such  days,  and  have  such  a  form  of  be- 
lief, and  such  church  ordinances.  A  great  many  men  think  so.  A  great 
many  men  think  that  when  they  are  attempting  to  be  religious  there  is 
but  one  way,  and  that  that  way  is  to  join  the  church,  and  ask  the 
church  what  it  says ;  and  they  think  that  the  church  stands  in  the 
place  of  God,  and  that  they  are  to  listen  to  its  voice,  and  that  they 
are  religious  when  they  obey  it.  No ;  the  commandments  respect  the 
gi'eat  fundamental  original  faculties  of  our  nature ;  and  we  are  com- 
manded simply  to  caiTy  them  up  and  out  in  obedience  to  God.  That 
is  our  duty.  How  we  are  to  fulfill  these  commandments  is  a  matter  of 
indifference,  so  that  we  come  to  the  right  results — the  fruits  of  love. 

Now,  it  is  not  grievous  to  ask  men  to  conform  to  theii*  own  natm'e. 
It  is  not  grievous — it  is  rational ;  it  is  right — to  demand  that  an  eagle 
shall  fulfill  the  duties  of  the  organization  which  God  gave  it.  It  is  right 
that  the  dove  should  be  a  dove,  and  come  up  to  its  nature.  It  is  right 
that  the  ox  should  fulfill  the  ox's  nature.  It  is  right  that  the  little 
singing  bu'd  should  fulfill  its  nature.  It  is  right  that  men  should  fill 
out'and  have  the  full  exercise  of  their  nature.  This  is  the  characteristic 
element  of  manhood.  The  moral  development  of  man  is  manhood  ; 
and  all  below  that  is  animalhood,  which  we  have  in  common  with  the 
brute  creation. 

All  our  duties,  then,  are  in  accordance  with  our  nature.  They  are 
in  accordance,  not,  perhaps,  with  what  men  have  been  accustomed  to 
call  nature  /  because  mostly  men  have  given  that  name  to  their  lower 
or  passional  nature.  We  therefore  are  said  to  have  a  lost  or  fallen, 
nature — a  corrupt  nature ;  and  we  are  cautioned  against  trusting  it. 
And  in  that  sense  this  artificial  nature — that  which  has  come  to  bo 
our  natui'e  more  properly — we  ought  not  to  esteem.  We  ought  not  to 
ti^ust  it     Our  character  is  deplorable  as  measured  by  the  divine  law. 


366  ''MY  YOKE  IS  EASY" 

But  oar  natural  endowments — that  is  to  say,  those  move  elemental 
faculties  which  God  gave  us — stand.      And  the  duty  of  religion  is 
simply  that  we  shall  find  out  what  faculties  these  are,  and  go  back  to 
them,  and   live  in  accordance  with  the   original   indications  ot  the 
divine  law  in  the  creation  of  man.     And  no  man  can,  on  philosophical 
grounds,  say  that  it  is  a  grievous  command  that  a  man  should  be  true  to 
himself,  true  to  the  best  part  of  himself — in  other  words,  that  he  should 
subordinate  his  lowest  self  to  his  higher  and  nobler  self 
_^    Nor  are  we  put  under  any  commandments  for  the  sake  of  another's 
/      benefit,  but  really  and  truly  for  our  own.     It  is  true  that  we  owe  obli- 
,'        gation  to  God.     It  is  true  that  we  are  in  that  sense  indebted.     It  is 
true  that  we,  as  his  creatui'es,  and  tied  to  him  by  innumerable  benefits, 
ought,  for  His  sake,  to  love  and  to  obey.     Yet  it  is  really  for  our  own 
sakes  that  He  commands  love  and  obedience.     "  All  things,"  says  the 
apostle,  "are  for  your  sakes."     And  God  commands  us  to  love  one 
another  for  our  own  sakes.     There  are  many  governments  that  are 
very  hard  to  bear,  that  are  operose  and  burdensome,  partly  because 
they  command  things  which  are  for  the  benefit  of  the  government,  but 
not  for  the  benefit  of  the  governed.     The  Turkish  government  over  its 
subjected  Greek  provinces  is  a  most  burdensome  government.     The 
Roman  government  was  a  most  exacting  and  a  most  hard-hearted  and 
hard-handed   government.     The   old   Roman   spu-it  was   not   simply 
bellicose,  but  it  was  despotic   in  all  the   after  administrations  in  its 
provinces.    And  men  were  requu-ed  to  do  things,  not  that  would  make 
themselves  richer  and  happier  and  better.     The  idea  of  making  a  State 
strong  by  making  each  individual  citizen  more  prosperous,  had  not  then 
entered  into  the  conception  of  legislators,  or  of  governors  themselves. 
The  idea  was  to  make  the  governing  hand  omnipotent ;  to  make  the 
imperial   government   rich   and   strong.      It  was  to  give  the  ruling 
authority  absolute  control  over  all  provinces.     Therefore  taxes  were 
levied,  services  were  required,  punishments  were  threatened  and  exe- 
cuted, lawless   administrations   were   established   throughout   all   the 
Roman  dynasty,  that  were  not  for  the  benefit  of  the  governed,  but 
were  only  for  the  benefit  of  the  governors. 

X  There  is  absolutely  nothing  of  this  in  the  divine  administration. 
/^  That  is  paternal.  Neither  is  there  in  it  any  of  that  lingering  selfishness 
which  belongs  to  all  earthly  paternal  government.  It  is  disinterested, 
it  is  more  than  disinterested,  it  is  self-sacrificing  paternity.  For  God 
is  He  who  so  loved  the  world,  gross,  sunk  in  sin  and  in  barbarity,  that 
He  gave  His  own  second  self — His  own  Son — to  die  for  us,  while  yet 
we  were  his  enemies. 

It  is  not  therefore  the  requisition  of  an  exacting  paternity  ;  it  is  the 
government  of  love — of  household  love — of  love  whose  central  philos- 


''MY  YOKE  IS  easy:'  367 

ophy  is  tlie  pliilosophy  of  domesticity.  It  is  that  government  which 
is  imposed  upon  us  for  our  sukes,  to  make  us  wiser,  and  nobler,  and 
freer,  and  stronger.  And  we  shall  find  almost  transports  of  exclamation 
in  various  parts  of  the  apostolic  teaching,  particularly  of  Paul's. 
^  I  do  not  wonder  when  I  consider  what  the  Pharisee  had  to  go 
through,  how  he  was  tied  up,  what  notions  he  had  of  the  naiTOW 
bounds  that  he  walked  in,  that  when  those  bounds  were  enlai'ged 
his  religion  was  not  destroyed,  but  he  had  more  a  God  than  he  had 
before,  and  a  more  impressive  sense  of  obligation  than  he  had  before, 
and  such  a  freedom  as  he  had  never  had  before,  and  such  joyousness 
and  enthusiasm  as  he  never  had  before,  as  was  the  case  with  Paul 
when  he  was  converted — I  do  not  wonder,  when  I  consider  these 
things,  that  the  apostle  spoke  of  himself  as  having  come  out  of  bondage 
into  liberty.  I  do  not  wonder  that  he  triumphed,  in  writing  to  the 
Galatians,  saying  that  they  had  become  free  men.  I  marvel  not  at 
these  things,  because  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  so  free  as  love.  That 
levels  all  distinctions.  That  makes  all  duties  choices.  That  makes 
bitter  things  sweet,  and  turns  all  juices  to  sugar.  That  takes  all  heat 
fi-om  the  sun  in  overmeasure.  That  makes  all  ways  flowery  ways. 
Love  enough,  and  there  springs  summer  out  of  the  very  bosom  of  win- 
ter.    Love  enough,  and  all  things  become  easy. 

Now,  the  divine  government  is  this  :  "  Thou  shalt  love."  If  there 
is  anything  more,  it  is,  "  Thou  shalt  love  with  all  thy  heart."  If  there 
is  anything  more,  it  is,  "Thou  shalt  love  with  all  thy  mind  and 
strength."  First,  and  second  and  third,  and  last,  it  is,  "  Thou  shalt 
love."  And  of  all  experiences,  none  is  more  blessed,  none  is  freer,  none 
is  more  exhilarating,  than  this  divinest  experience  of  love. 

And  if  it  be  so  when  the  taper  is  lit  in  the  lower  affections,  and  as 
between  unworthy  natures,  so  little  susceptible  of  creating  any  deep 
affection  or  any  great  admiration  one  for  the  other,  what  should  be  the 
magic  throb  of  that  love  kindled  in  our  bosom,  when  it  is  the  mighty 
God  that  stands  over  against  us,  and  offers  himself  with  impunity,  and 
is  our  very  Suitor,  giving  his  power  of  heart  to  the  wilderness  and  bar- 
renness of  our  hearts !  I  marvel  not  that  He  says,  *'  Thou  shalt  love 
me  with  all  thy  heart,  and  soul,  and  mind  and  strength,  and  thy  neigh- 
bor as  thyself."  And  such  a  commandment  is  not  grievous  :  it  is  very 
joyous. 

These  commandments,  I  remark  once   more,  are   the   only  roads  i 
to    full,    comprehensive  and   enduring    happiness.       We   have   wan-  I 
dered   out   of    the   way.      We   have,    in   ignoi-ance   partly,   and   in 
wilfulness  partly,  formed  habits  of  living  contrary  to  our  best  nature. 
And  every  man  feels   the  discord.      For    though   men   may  dispute 
about  theology,  they  seldom  dispute  about  experience.      K  you  ask 


368  ^M7  YOKE  IS  EASY." 

them,"  Is  there  never  a  turbulent  irruption  of  your  passions  into  your 
affections '?  Do  they  never  soil  you  ?  Is  there  never  rebellion  in  your 
case,  so  that  your  reason  stands  on  one  side,  and  your  disobedient 
affections  and  passions  on  the  other  ?  Are  not  all  your  expectations  of 
what  is  right  and  good  one  way,  and  your  will  the  other?  Is  not  your 
life  spent  mostly  in  breaking  what  you  know  to  be  right  command- 
ments, and  the  little  that  remains  of  it  in  a  pitiful  sorrowing  which  does 
not  work  repentance,  nor  much  change  ?  Are  you  not  yourself  satisfied 
that  you  are  i^erpetually  violating  your  best  ideals  of  life  and  of  duty  1 " 
It  will  not  do  for  a  man  to  look  at  himself  too  much.  A  journalizing 
of  every  man's  experience  from  day-to-day,  and  a  contrasting  it  with 
the  true  ideal  of  a  manly  life,  would  strike  despau*  through  any  soul. 
It  is  only  by  hiding  and  forgetting  it  that  men  can  rise  above  despon- 
dency into  true  enjoyment. 

Men  are  living  so  as  to  abate  happiness.  Not  that  sinful  men  may 
not  be  happy.  That  I  do  not  doubt.  Not  that  there  is  not  enjoy- 
ment in  things  that  are  wrong.  There  is  enjoyment  in  things  that 
ai'e  wrong.  Not  that  sin  does  not  pay.  It  does  pay.  But  it  is  a  poor 
price  that  it  pays,  and  a  price  that  is  delusive  at  last.  It  pays  wages 
that  are  very  quickly  squandered.  It  pays,  to  be  sure ;  but  it  wears  out 
the  man  who  takes  the  pay.  The  wages  of  sin  are  death,  in  the  end. 
In  the  first  place,  the  wages  of  sin  are  what  buds  are,  that  promise  blos- 
soms. They  delight  for  the  instant  by  their  sweetness.  They  are  like 
the  book  that  the  Revelator  saw,  which  was  sweet  in  his  mouth,  and 
bitter  in  his  belly.  Sin  is  sweet  in  the  mouth,  and  bitter  in  digestion. 
It  lies  hard  on  the  stomach.  Sin  has  present  remuneration.  And 
nothinfic  can  be  more  foolish  than  to  tell  childi-en  and  men  that  there  is 
no  pleasure  in  sin.  Do  you  suppose  that  the  world  would  ever  have 
gone  agog  after  sinful  things  if  there  had  been  no  pleasure  in  them. 
There  is  pleasure  in  them. 

The  thief  has  a  pleasure  of  excitement  in  stealing.  Even  the  robber 
has  some  sort  of  pleasure  in  striking  down  his  victim.  The  miser  has 
his  curmudgeonish  pleasure.  There  is  j^leasure  in  the  cup,  in  the  song, 
and  in  the  dance.  All  these  things  have  theu'  pleasure  ;  but  they  are 
consuming  the  susceptibility  of  pleasure  from  other  sources,  by  their 
concentration  of  intense  excitements.  Coarse  pleasures  have  a  brief 
period,  and  then  they  leave  the  soul  in  a  wilderness.  There  is  nothing 
remaining  to  it. 
y/"  A  great  place,  the  soul  is.  Ample  provision  is  made  in  it  for 
enjoyment.  But  he  who  lives  for  the  senses  takes  only  one  single  kind 
of  enjoyment,  and  so  employs  that  that  it  destroys  all  the  rest. 

Now  the  duty  imposed  upon  us  by  God,  is,  that  we  shall  use 
om'selves  according  to  our  nature,  and  according  to  God's  command- 


"i/F  YOKE  IS  EASY."  369 

ments,  which  are  based  on  his  own  everlasting,  immutable  nature,  so 
that  every  jjart  of  us  slmll  be  concordant  with  itself,  concordant  with 
natural  law,  and  concordant  with  moral  law.  And  so  every  pai't  of 
the  soul  becomes  vocal  with  joy.  And  it  is  a  joy  that  has  this  peculi- 
arity, that  it  is  lowest  and  least  in  the  beginning ;  that  it  quietly  in- 
creases in  volume ;  that  it  is  more  and  more  vocal  at  times  when  all 
ordinary  joys  begin  to  shrink  and  are  silent;  that  it  waxes  amain  when 
other  powers  and  faculties  cease  to  go ;  that  it  triumphs  in  that  hour 
when  heart  and  flesh  fail ;  and  that  when  death  annihilates  the  common 
joys  of  men,  it  is  but  an  emancipator  of  the  joys  which  we  have  when 
we  serve  God  according  to  his  commandments. 

Why,  then,  is  it,  that  men  think  that  religion  is  a  grievous  thing ; 
that  it  is  gloomy  and  hard  ?  If,  in  this  brief  exposition  of  the  essential 
nature  of  religion,  we  see  that  it  conforms  to  our  organization,  con- 
forms to  the  world  in  which  we  dwell,  conforms  to  our  present  needs, 
and  augments  as  we  go  on  in  life,  preparing  us  for  the  life  which  is  to 
come,  why  should  men  have  derived  so  very  diiferent  an  idea  of  it  ? 
Because  men  have  very  largely  had  presented  to  them  the  machinery 
of  religion,  instead  of  religion.  It  has  been  as  if  a  farmer  should  pre- 
sent to  you  plows,  crowbars,  harrows,  carts,  wagons,  spades,  shovels, 
rakes,  all  manner  of  utensils,  and  they  should  produce  the  imj^ression 
on  you  that  those  were  the  only  apples  and  pears  that  there  were  on 
the  farm.  Men  look  at  Sunday.  That  is  a  tool  or  instrument.  They 
look  at  the  church.  That  is  nothing  but  a  machine-shop.  The  church 
is  a  mere  mechanical  aiTangement  by  which  men  may  be  educated  in 
knowledge,  and  receive  an  imjjulse  in  the  right  direction.  But  it  is 
not  religion. 

Why,  is  the  old  mill,  that  goes  clattering  night  and  day  on  the 
stream,  bi-ead  ?  Would  you  gnaw  a  millstone  ?  or,  would  you  marvel, 
if  you  did,  that  you  still  hungered  ?  Men  have  had  presented  Sundays, 
and  churches,  and  all  manner  of  church  economies,  which  I  honor,  and 
some  parts  of  which  I  observe,  and  which  I  certainly  do  not  dissuade 
you  from  observing ;  but  I  want  you  to  understand  that  they  are  all 
of  them  man-made,  and  all  of  them  mere  conveniences,  simple  methods 
by  which  we  help  ourselves  to  get  that  which  is  behind  them,  and  is 
different  from  them,  and  is  not  produced  by  them — namely,  the  relig- 
ious element. 

^  But  where  men  have  heard  churches  disputing — this  church  up,  and 
that  down ;  this  church  broad,  and  that  narrow ;  this  church  high,  and 
that  low ;  where  men  have  gone  about  and  seen  churche?,  some  Avith 
steeples  towering  above  others ;  some  with  this  church  economy,  and 
some  with  that ;  some  with  this  platform,  and  some  with  that,  they  havo 
become  bewildered,  and  have  said,  "  If  that  is  religion,  I  do  not  know 


370  "MT  YOKE  IS  easy:' 

but  I  am  about  as  well  off  without  it  as  I  would  be  with  it,  ordinarily." 
And  when  men  look  at  the  church,  and  see  what  they  do  see ;  when 
they  see  the  disagreement  which  there  is  between  the  members  of 
churches  themselves ;  when  they  see  all  sorts  of  worldlings  and  dis- 
reputable men  calling  themselves  Christians,  they  get  a  very  vague  idea 
of  what  religion  really  is.  And  looking  at  the  mass  of  those  who  pass 
as  religious,  it  is  not  marvellous  to  me  that  men  should  say,  "  This  is 
grievous  business.  I  may  come  to  it  yet ;  I  do  not  want  to  be  lost ;  I 
will  take  any  medicine  rather  than  be  lost;  but  it  is  a  hard  dose."  I 
should  feel  very  much  as  they  do  under  the  same  circumstances.  If 
religion  were  presented  to  me  as  that  mere  externality  which  many 
men  are  impressed  that  it  is ;  if  those  things  which  are  called  religion 
were  presented  to  me,  and  I  were  told  that  they  were  all  that  there 
was  of  religion,  I  would  reject  them.  I  would  not  take  them.  They 
are  not  soul-feeding.  And  I  do  not  wonder  that  people  think  that  re- 
ligion is  grievous — and  all  the  more  because  with  this  an  ascetic  ele- 
ment has  been  introduced — by  good  men,  too. 

Where  men  lived  in  times  that  were  exceedingly  lax ;  where  they 
saw  all  the  power  of  the  land  arrayed  on  the  side  of  license  and  licen- 
tiousness ;  where  they  saw  wealth  devoted  to  the  lowest  uses ;  where 
they  saw  pleasure  made  only  a  snare  and  a  delusion ;  whei*e  they  saw 
all  forms  of  conviviality  still  leading  men  down,  down,  I  do  not  won- 
der that  lai-ge  numbers  of  them  sprung  up  with  such  zeal  for  purity 
and  integrity  as  carried  them  to  the  opposite  extreme,  and  led  them  to 
reject  flowers  and  music,  and  to  become  ascetics.  Ascetics  are  the  pro- 
ducts of  ages  of  utter  and  abandoned  license. 

But  though  the  age  and  the  necessity  are  gone,  there  are  men  who 
are  still  ascetic  hereditarily.  They  have  ceased  to  discriminate.  They 
feel  that  if  you  are  going  to  be  religious,  you  must  make  up  your  mind 
to  give  up  almost  everything  in  this  world. 

When  I  preach  that  a  true  Christian  has  all  the  good  that  there  is 
in  the  world,  as  well  as  the  promise  of  after  life,  men  say,  "  What  do 
you  make  out  of  the  example  of  Christ "?"  Well,  I  make  out  of  Christ's 
example,  this :  that  for  about  thirty  years  he  lived  at  home,  and  worked 
at  his  trade,  a  simple  peasant  and  carpenter,  like  any  other  mechanic. 
There  was  nothing  special  about  him — nothing  that  attracted  the  least 
attention.  He  was  not  distinguished  from  any  citizen.  And  when  he 
began  his  ministration  he  was  not  ascetic.  While  John  was  thunder- 
ing as  an  ascetic  reformer  in  the  lower  parts  of  Palestine,  Jesus  was  at 
Cana  of  Galilee,  for  seven  days,  at  a  marriage  feast,  and  created  not 
less  than  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  gallons  of  wine,  according  to  the  Gos- 
pel, that  he  might  assist  in  the  festivities,  with  a  decorous  sobriety 
sympathizing  with  them.      Jesus  was  a  most  loveable  man ;   he  wa» 


"J!/T  70EE  IS  EASY,^*  371 

a  most  gonial  man ;  he  was  a  most  conversable  man.  lie  went  to  the 
feasts  of  rich  men,  and  sat  at  their  tables.  Some  of  his  most  striking 
discourses  were  those  which  he  deUvered  at  feasts  in  the  houses  of  rich 
men.  He  sat  with  the  poor  man,  with  the  lawyer,  with  the  publican, 
with  the  soldier.  Wherever  a  man  met  him,  there  was  that  genial 
sympathy  manifested  toward  him.  I  can  take  no  other  instance  more 
forcible  than  that  of  the  life  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  show  that  re- 
ligion should  make  a  man  cheerful,  genial,  conversable,  enjoying  and 
enjoyable.  That  was  his  example.  And  though  at  the  end  of  his  life, 
when  he  laid  it  down  as  a  sacrifice  for  the  world,  he  was  a  sufferer ;  yet 
that  was  but  a  single  phase,  a  solitary  aspect,  of  his  history  ;  and  the 
ministerial  life,  as  well  as  that  life  which  anteceded  it,  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  was  full  of  society,  full  of  enjoyment,  full  of  pleasure. 

Therefore,  when  men  say,  "What  do  you  do  with  the  life  of  Christ?" 
I  take  it  up,  and  say,  Live  just  as  purely,  and  with  such  a  noble,  ge- 
nial, cheerful  life,  as  he  did.  He  never  girded  himself  with  sackcloth. 
And  when  they  reproached  him  because  he  would  not  fast,  he  said, 
"  The  days  will  come  when  my  disciples  will  fast ;  but  not  now.  I  am 
with  them  " — as  much  as  to  say,  "  So  long  as  I  am  with  them  they  can- 
not help  being  haj^py."  They  could  not  be  made  to  fast  while  he  was 
with  them. 

Now,  where  a  rigorous  view  of  religion  is  presented ;  where  men 
are  told  that  no  matter  what  one  is  doing,  the  instant  the  clock  strikes 
twelve,  the  needle  must  be  dropped,  there  comes  that  intolerable  super- 
stitious notion  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  holy  time.  Why,  do  you 
suppose  that  we  are  living  in  the  time  of  Moses  ?  Ai-e  days  conse- 
crated ?  Is  the  ground  consecrated  1  Is  there  consecration  in  a  stone 
or  in  a  brick  ?  Is  there  consecration  in  one  chi-onological  period  in 
contrast  within  another  ? 

**  What  do  you  mean"  ?  it  is  asked,  "  That  we  shall  not  observe 
the  Sabbath"  ?  I  mean  that  you  shall  observe  it ;  but  that  you  shall 
observe  it  as  free  men,  and  not  as  men  in  bondage ;  not  as  under 
taskmasters,  but  with  a  rational  perception  that  there  is  benefit  in  it ; 
of  yom-  own  sweet  willingness,  and  not  because  you  are  afraid  that 
God  stands  with  a  whip  which  he  will  bring  down  on  your  back,  or 
with  a  pencil  with  which  he  will  mark  down  your  delinquencies  against 
your  name.  And  yet  men  will  draw  the  belt  up  until  there  is  no 
breath  left  in  the  body.  And  people  living  on  this  rigor  of  reli- 
gious life  say,  "It  is  said  not  to  be  grievous;  but  I  think  it  is 
grievous." 

Then  there  is  another  reason  why  people  think  it  is  grievous.  As 
a  general  thing,  men  who  profess  to  be  Christians,  and  who  are  in  a 
measure  leavened  with  Christianity,  are  so  far  from  having  developed 


372  *^MT  TOKE  IS  easy:' 


the  true  Chvisllan  type  of  character,  that  they  present  rather  the  ap- 
pearance of  men  under  great  difficulties  than  the  appearance  of  very 
lovely  men  having  had  conquests.  If  the  fruit  of  the  spirit  is  love,  joy 
in  the  Holy  Ghost,  peace,  faith,  patience,  temperance,  aud  such  quali- 
ties as  these,  why,  then,  all  I  have  to  say,  is,  that  the  fruit  does  not 
get  ripe  on  most  boughs.  Men  see  what  are  called  Christians,  and  they 
see  what  are  called  Christian  experiences,  and  they  reach  up  and  take 
one,  and  bite  it,  and  it  is  not  to  be  desired  again. 

Are  Christians  of  such  a  disposition  that  you  mark  them  sure  ? 
I  never  make  a  mistake  in  judging  of  flowers.  I  never  smell  of  a 
nettle  or  a  thistle  thinking  it  is  a  honeysuckle.  My  honeysuckle  tells 
me  by  night  and  by  day  when  it  blossoms.  I  never  go  astray  in 
autumn  in  regard  to  my  grape  vine.  I  know  where  the  gi'apes  are 
both  by  the  smell,  and  by  the  touch,  and  by  sight.  I  cannot  make 
any  mistake  here. 

But  if  we  bring  forth  Christian  fruit  that  hangs  on  our  boughs — 
joy,  peace,  faith,  gentleness,  humility,  holiness,  long  suffering,  hope — 
so  that  the  whole  tree-top  of  our  life  is  full  of  these  in  abundant  clus- 
ters, and  so  that  the  fragrance  of  them  is  all  about  us,  do  you  suppose 
that  any  one  would  need  an  argument  in  favor  of  Christianity,  an 
apology  for  it,  or  a  defence  of  its  doctrine?  I  will  venture  to  say  that 
if  such  a  life  as  this  existed  in  the  Church,  if  that  church  was  an  or- 
chard, and  every  tree  was  hanging  to  the  ground  with  such  fruit  on 
its  boughs,  it  would  make  almost  no  difference  in  the  world  what  the 
creed  was.  Men  would  swallow  any  creed  for  the  sake  of  going  into 
a  church  where  the  members  brought  forth  such  fruits  as  these.  And 
one  reason  why  men  do  not  believe  that  there  is  much  in  religion,  is, 
that  there  is  not  much  in  it  as  they  see  it  exemplified. 

Yet,  1  would  say,  on  the  other  side,  in  the  case  of  many  of  those 
men  who  are  derided  and  set  aside,  and  said  to  be  insincere,  that  the 
work  has  just  begun,  and  only  just  begun ;  that  it  is  convalescence, 
but  not  health.  Men  have  started,  and  taken  a  few  steps ;  but  they 
have  not  developed  largely  the  truth  of  Christ  in  them.  And  so,  when 
to  rigorous  machinery,  and  to  a  very  severe  presentation  of  doctrines, 
you  add  a  comparatively  unlovely  Christian  life, — as  the  life  of  men  in 
hospitals, — or  the  life  of  men  who  have  been  grievously  perverted,  but 
who  are  striving  to  get  back  again  to  their  normal  condition,  then  all 
these  elements,  all  these  things  which  men  see,  fail  to  make  a  favorable 
impression  upon  those  who  look  upon  them. 

On  the  othtr  hand,  wherever  there  is  a  true  Christian,  there  you  are 
sure  to  find  men  won  toward  religion.  If  there  is  in  any  neighborhood  a 
person  whose  influence  is  always  sought ;  who  is  always  considerate  of 
others ;  who  is  always  full  of  sympathy ;  if  there  is  any  one  in  a 


**Mr  YOKE  IS  EAST,"  373 

nei<^liboiliood,  wlien  a  man  is  in  trouble,  Avhom  all  think  of  at  once  as 
that  man  or  woman  counsellor,  faithful,  full  of  kindness,  who,  day  and 
night,  would,  if  an  opportunity  were  presented,  serve  disinterestedly 
their  necessity,  point  out  that  person  and  ask,  "  Is  religion  a  grievous 
thing?"  Everybody — the  rudest,  the  coarsest,  the  most  belluine  nature 
— bows  down  before  that  exani[)le,  and  feels  that  it  is  a  beautiful  thing. 

There  is  something  awful  in  true  holiness.  There  is  something  im- 
pressive, even  to  the  rudest  natures,  where  they  actually  iee  the  beauty 
and  the  power  of  the  Christian  disposition  under  wise  control,  until 
they  learn  to  trust  it,  knowing  that  it  is  not  a  vain  show,  nor  a  pre- 
tence, nor  a  counterfeit;  where  they  see  that  it  is  real,  and  that  it 
preaches  to  them  "  the  beauty  of  holiness."  And  in  *'  the  beauty  of 
holiness"  they  believe  that  religion  is  not  grievous.  The  command- 
ments of  God,  if  so  exemplified,  become  most  beautiful.  They  are 
holy,  and  just,  and  good  as  well. 

But  there  is  another  reason  why  men  feel  that  religion  is  grievous. 
It  is  because  of  their  own  experience.  It  is  because  they  have  at- 
tempted to  live  a  religious  hfe,  and  have  never  given  their  whole 
will  and  their  whole  heart  to  it  Men  want  to  build  themselves  as 
carpenters  build  bureaus,  using  pine  for  the  whole  substance  of  it, 
and  a  little  thin  veneering  for  a  finish,  to  make  it  look  beautiful. 
Men  want  to  build  themselves  up  in  all  manner  of  gross,  worldly  forces, 
and  have  a  thin  veneering  of  righteousness  or  religion  over  that,  just 
to  cover  down  these  other  things,  and  make  them  beautiful,  and  make 
them  sell  well.  And  where  men  just  surface  themselves  with  religion, 
where  men  just  polish  off  with  religion,  it  is  simply  an  irritant.  It 
acts  simply  as  a  provocative.  It  keeps  up  before  them  a  rule,  or  a 
conception,  or  an  ideal,  which  they  do  not  at  all  either  accomplish  or 
strive  to  accomplish.  Half-way  measures  that  are  allowed  to  men  are 
always  disturbances  to  them.  A  man  who  is  half-way  between  bem<T 
sick  and  being  well  is  never  a  very  happy  man,  and  is  never  a  very 
profitable  man  to  look  at.  A  man  who  is  half  sea-sick  does  not  enjoy 
voyages.  A  man  who  has  had  his  leg  broken  and  half  cured,  is  not  in 
a  particularly  comfortable  condition.  And  just  like  these  men  are  they 
who  are  attempting  to  be  religious.  They  are  just  far  enough  ad- 
vanced from  their  worldly  courses  to  be  all  the  time  vexing  and  har- 
rassing  themselves  with  these  moral  obligations,  which  sometimes  they 
meet  and  obey,  and  which  sometimes  they  evade.  All  manner  of 
irregularities,  resistances  and  abnormal  feelings  spring  up.  And  men 
are  not  happy  under  such  circumstances.  He  is  happy  who  gives  him- 
self up  unreservedly  to  any  course  of  religious  life,  and  makes  every- 
thing else  consistent  with  that.  Some  become  much  happier  than 
others,  according  to  the  system  which  they  follow ;  but  there  ia  a  ccr- 


374  "MY  YOKE  IS  easy:' 

tain  sort  of  harmony  which  brings  peace  where  a  man  surrenders  him 
self  wholly ;  where  a  man  gives  himself  entu'ely  to  Christ.  As  soon 
as  the  battle  is  fought  in  a  man,  and  all  the  great  central  impulses  of 
his  being  are  brought  under  the  supreme  control  of  the  Divine  Spirit, 
he  finds  satisfoction.  But  how  few  there  are  of  such !  How  many 
men  there  are  who  are  just  a  little  religious — who  have  become  a  little 
healed,  but  who  are  for  the  most  part  afflicted  with  mm-muring  and 
complaining  sickness. 

As  for  those  who  have  not  begun  a  religious  life,  oftentimes  they 
make  essays,  tentative  endeavors ;  and  they  may  be  said  to  have  ap- 
proached it.  Men  have  sometimes,  as  it  were,  tried  on  religion.  They 
are  most  apt  to  do  this  when  they  have  gone  wrong.  There  is  nothing 
which  makes  a  man  so  quake  as  to  have  gone  wrong,  and  to  be  afraid 
of  detection.  Oh !  how  he  fears  and  sweats  and  wants  to  get  back  to 
something  that  shall  reconcile  him  to  himself,  and  make  him  happier ! 
I  have  known  men,  under  such  circumstances,  to  go  to  church,  oh ! 
how  fierce  !  and  say  prayers,  oh !  how  regularly !  and  read  the  longest 
and  toughest  chapters,  oh !  with  what  pertinacity !  and  do  a  great 
many  things, — until  the  scare  had  a  little  worn  off,  they  gradually 
got  over  it,  and,  as  it  were,  got  out  again,  and  fell  once  more  into  their 
old  ways.  And  then,  if  you  talk  with  them,  they  say,  "  I  know  about 
religion  now.  I  have  tried  it.  Why,  I  have  been  religious  for  a  week 
together.  I  tell  you  it  may  be  necessary,  by-and-by ;  but  it  is  a  hard 
road  to  travel." 

What  would  you  think  of  a  man,  city-bred,  lily-fingered,  soft- 
jointed,  and  soft-muscled,  who  should  say,  "  They  tell  me  that  there  is 
great  pleasure  in  living  in  the  saddle ,  but  I  believe  it  is  a  lie ;  for  I 
tried  it  one  morning.  I  got  a  hard  trotting  horse,  and  rode  several 
hours ;  and  I  was  sore  for  days  afterwards.  I  do  not  believe  a  word 
of  what  they  say  of  horse-back  riding." 

And  yet  here  are  men  who  put  themselves  on  the  most  unaccus- 
tomed exercises,  and  in  their  most  external  form  and  lowest  ways  ;  and 
they  are  so  conceited  as  to  suppose  that  they  have  had  a  taste,  an  ex- 
perience, of  religion.  And  when  you  talk  to  such  men,  what  is  their 
idea  of  religion?  It  is  this  :  "  I  must  leave  off  ray  old  companions.  I 
must  go  in  among  the  old  owls.  When  I  get  up  Sunday  morning,  I 
cannot  ride  out ;  I  cannot  write  letters ;  I  cannot  have  a  good  time  ;  I 
cannot  meet  my  drinking  companions  and  tell  stories."  They  have  lots 
of  stories  that  must  go  on  the  shelf.  There  are  ever  so  many  things 
that  they  cannot  do.  And  then-  idea  of  religion  is,  simply  that  it  is  a 
state  in  which  they  cannot  do  what  they  have  been  doing.  There  is  no 
positiveness,  no  upward  springing,  no  new  life,  no  new  power,  in  their 
impression  concerning  it      To  their  thought  it  is  merely  breaking  off 


*'MY  YOKE  IS  easy:'  375 

from  sin.  And  to  such  men  religion  must  have  a  very  gloomy  aspect. 
Ah  I  how  different  it  is  in  reality !  How  hard  it  is  for  a  man  to 
drop  off  all  his  old  relishes !  While  yet  they  are  strong  in  him,  and 
he  has  no  other  relishes,  how  he  clings  to  them !  A  man  who  by 
famine  has  been  driven  to  a  mouldy  loaf  of  bread,  munches  it  in  his 
hovel  with  avidity ;  and  there  comes  a  friend  to  him,  and  says,  "  Let 
me  take  you  out  of  your  misery.  Throw  away  your  loaf,  and  come 
with  me."  "Throw  away  my  loaf?"  says  he.  "I  cannot  spare  this." 
But  once  set  before  him  a  wheaten  loaf;  once  bring  in  the  food 
smoking  from  the  range,  and  set  it  before  him,  and  how  quick  will  he 
thi'ow  away  his  garbage ! 

Once  bring  the  true  relishes  of  holiness  into  a  man's  soul ;  once  let 
the  real  life  of  Christ  spring  up  in  him  ;  once  let  a  man  know  what  joy 
there  is  in  disinterested  kindness ;  once  let  a  man  follow  Christ  in  suf- 
fering for  another ;  let  a  man  deny  himself ;  let  him  and  his  wife  and 
children — his  whole  household — deprive  themselves  of  real  comforts  of 
life,  in  order  to  carry  light  and  balm  into  a  distressed  household  over 
the  way ;  and  let  them  talk  it  over  together  at  night,  and  speak  of  the 
gratitude  of  those  who  have  been  relieved,  and  of  the  wondrous  thanks 
of  the  little  children — and  how  much  nobler  they  feel !  "What  a  dig- 
nity they  have!  What  a  sense  of  manhood  and  womanhood  they 
have !  Instead  of  gobbling  up  their  beneficence,  and  giving  nothing 
to  other  people,  they  take  their  abundance,  and  share  it  with  that 
household.  And  if  need  be,  they  take  upon  themselves  more  work, 
heavier  tasks,  that  they  may  thus  serve  others.  And  they  are  amply 
repaid  by  the  gratitude  which  is  called  forth  by  theu'  benefactions,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  consciousness  which  they  have  of  acting  from  theu' 
higher  impulses. 

AYhen  a  man  gets  a  taste  of  self-denial,  of  disinterested  kindness 
for  others,  the  Gospel  is  preached  to  him.  He  receives  tidings,  good 
news,  which  he  never  could  have  had  except  by  practical  works  of 
benevolence.  Once  let  a  man  have  a  taste  for  true  religion  ;  once  let 
a  man  feel  the  inspu-ation  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  experience  the  as- 
piration of  the  soul  for  purity ;  once  let  a  man  have  a  sense  of  the 
divine  love  and  real  hungering  and  thirsting  after  righteousness — once 
let  a  man  begin  to  taste  these  verities,  and  all  other  pleasures,  in  com- 
parison with  them,  pale  and  lose  then*  power. 

No  man  is  fit  to  judge  of  what  religion  is — as  to  whether  it  is  beau- 
tiful and  joyous,  and  free,  and  most  to  be  desired — until  he  has  had 
some  actual  experience  of  it.  And  then,  when  one  has  once  tasted  it, 
he  will  say,  "  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ?  and  there  is  none 
upon  earth  that  I  desire  besides  thee."  This  is  the  testimony  of  an 
over-crowning  and  all- conquering  love.     Though  there  be  angels  and 


376  ''MY  YOKE  IS  easy:'' 

arch-angels  in  heaven ;  though  all  one's  children  have  gone  before  him, 
and  are  there ;  though  the  dearest  companion  of  his  early  arfections, 
and  the  mother  that  bore  him,  are  there ;  though  sainted  names  in  mul- 
titudes are  there,  the  heart  once  taught  to  love,  looking  up,  always  says, 
"There  is  but  one  thing  in  the  world,  and  that  is  what  we  love  most 
and  strongest.  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ?  Heaven  would  be 
empty  if  thou  wert  not  there ;  and  there  is  none  upon  earth  that  I  de- 
sire beside  thee." 

To  those  that  are  called  of  God,  and  that  have  a  willing  soul,  the 
way  to  Christ  is  a  very  easy  way.  It  is  the  way  toward  yourself,  toa 
It  is  the  way  in  which,  when  once  you  begin  fairly  to  walk  in  it,  you 
shall  have  the  advantage  of  your  reason,  of  your  restored  moral  powers, 
and  of  all  your  affections,  in  their  best  estate.  You  shall  have  every 
advantage  that  can  come  from  your  harmonization  with  the  great  laws 
outside  of  you — the  best  laws  of  nature.  You  shall  have  all  the  help 
which  comes  from  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God,  who  watches,  and  in  all 
the  earth  sees  nothing  that  draws  his  heart  quicker  than  a  soul  that  de- 
sires to  repent  and  return  from  the  evil  way.  Oh !  how  God  longs 
to  have  souls  come  to  him! 

A  child,  disobedient,  has  gone  out,  as  it  was  forbidden  to  do ;  and 
has  wandered  from  the  house  into  the  thicket ;  and  from  the  thicket 
into  the  forest ;  and,  bewildered  and  lost  and  scared,  it  rushes  hither 
and  thither,  until  night  descends,  and  darkness  wraps  it  in,  and  it  lays 
itself  down  under  some  sheltering  rock,  or  by  the  side  of  some  huge 
log,  sobbing  itself  to  sleep ;  and,  between  dreams  and  wakings,  both 
hideous,  moans,  and  calls  for  father  and  mother,  and  more  than  all  for 
onother,  and  thinks  that  there  is  no  heart  that  is  so  saving  as  the  heart 
of  mother.  But  what  does  that  child  suffer  compared  with  the  dis- 
tracted mother,  who,  missing  it,  calls  out ;  who,  receiving  no  answer, 
runs  out  after  it,  and  searches  right  and  left,  in  fearful  places — down 
in  the  well  and  in  the  cistern ;  who  looks  every  whither,  thinking  of 
Gipsies,  and  wild  beasts,  and  a  hundi-ed  other  things ;  who  alarms  the 
neighborhood,  and  sends  out  men  searching  in  the  fields  and  woods, 
and  filling  the  air  all  night  with  racket  and  outcry,  none  calling  more 
than  herself;  and  who,  when  the  grey  dawn  comes,  and  the  men, 
wearied,  go  home,  will  not  go,  but  still  holds  on,  until,  by-and-by,  in 
her  almost  distraction,  her  ear,  sharpened  beyond  the  ear  of  any  other, 
hears  some  sound,  and  stands  still  as  silence  itself,  and  hears  it  again— 
the  moan  of  a  child — and,  quicker  than  ever  eagle  sped  for  its  pi'ey, 
urged  by  love,  speeds  to  it,  and  finds  her  lost  darling.  And  tell  me, 
as  she  takes  that  spent  child  up  into  her  bosom,  is  there  any  other  rap- 
ture like  that  of  a  mother  ?  Oh  yes.  God  says,  "  A  mother  may  for- 
get her  sucking  child ;  yet  will  not  I  forget  thee." 


"  MT  YOKE  IS  EA8Y»  377 

God's  love  for  those  who  are  scattered  and  lost  is  intenser  and 
deeper  than  the  love  even  of  a  mother ;  and  if  there  be  in  this  congre- 
gation any  one  who  is  conscious  of  guilt,  and  who  wants  to  come  back 
to  innocency ;  if  there  be  one  who  is  lost  in  the  woods,  and  does  not 
know  how  to  find  his  way  out,  God  longs  to  bring  you  home  more 
than  you  long  to  get  there.  He  has  been  callingj  calling,  calling,  and 
listening  for  your  answer.  And  when  you  are  found,  and  you  lay  your 
head  on  the  bosom  of  Jesus,  and  you  are  at  rest,  you  will  not  be  so 
glad  as  He  will  be  who  declared  that,  like  a  shepherd,  he  had  Joy  over 
one  si7iner  that  repented  more  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just  persons 
that  needed  710  repentance. 

And  so,  I  call  you  to  yourselves.  I  call  you  back  to  your  own  na- 
ture. I  call  you  to  your  better  selves.  I  call  to  that  God  from  whom 
you  sprang,  and  to  whom  you  go  again.  I  call  you  to  the  life  of  duty, 
the  life  of  liberty,  the  life  of  purity,  the  life  of  joy,  and  the  life  of  im- 
mortality. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

We  rejoice,  our  Father,  that  thou  hast  made  it  possible  for  us  to  com- 
mune with  thee  ;  that  thou  dost  reach  down  thy  thoughts  unto  ours,  which 
could  not  rise  unto  thee.  Thou  art  so  much  above  us,  thou  art  so  lifted  up 
hito  an  air  where  we  cannot  dwell  except  when  thou  dost  give  us  thine  own 
life,  and  quicken  ours,  that  we  never  should  tind  our  way  home,  and  never 
should  know  our  Father,  and  never  should  have  that  great  love  by  which 
we  shall  overcome  life  and  death,  and  conquer  immortality,  but  for  the  gra- 
ciousness  of  thy  condescension.  We  thank  thee  that  thou  hast  permitted  us 
so  many  times  to  come,  and  made  the  way  now  a  way  of  flowers.  We  have 
gone  through  the  wilderness  to  thee ;  but  coming  back  it  was  a  paradise.  We 
have  gone  bearing  burdens,  and  knew  not  what  became  of  them.  Thy  very 
look  had  turned  lliem  all  to  lightness.  We  have  gone  with  disappointments, 
only  to  have  them  interpreted  into  mercies.  We  have  gone  with  sorrow  and 
confusion ;  but  behold,  while  yet  we  were  confessing,  the  greatness  of  thy 
forgiving  love  broke  out  upon  us,  as  the  sun  breaks  through  the  storm-clouds, 
and  all  the  terror  was  gone.  We  have  come  to  thee  often  and  often,  weary 
and  heavy-laden,  and  we  have  taken  thy  yoke,  and  it  was  no  yoke;  and  thy 
burden,  and  it  was  not  burdensome.  O  Lord  our  God,  we  thank  thee  for 
the  past  experience,  and  that  out  of  it  we  derive  all  argument  of  hope.  Not 
because  of  what  thy  word  hath  said,  but  because  of  what  thou  hast  said  in 
us,  and  a  hundred  times  fulfiled,  we  believe  in  thee.  And  we  rejoice  that 
we  may  thus  increase  our  faith  from  day  to  day.  And  as  we  go  onward  ; 
as  we  draw  near  to  thee  ;  as  we  become  riper  for  the  heavenly  land  ;  as  we 
have  the  intimations  of  truth ;  as  we  work  out  the  spirit  of  love  more 
and  more  perfectly,  we  hope  yet  to  be  in  that  state  by  which  it  will  be  pos- 
sible for  us  to  discern  the  invisible,  and  to  live  as  seeing  Ilim  who  is  invis- 
ible. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt,  to-night,  forgive  us  our  sins.  Wash  out,  wc  be- 
seech oi  tliee,  evcr^-  staia  and  spot,  that  we  may  be  white  as  snow,    l^otonlj 


378  "i/T  TORE  IS  EASY" 

grant  to  us  ths  forgiveness  of  our  sins,  but  heal  us  in  those  fountains  which 
sin  brings.  Purify  our  motives,  and  search  our  hiddenmost  life.  By  thy 
Spirit,  as  with  a  glowing  light,  illumine,  and,  as  with  a  living  fire 
cleanse  us,  that  all  dross  may  be  taken  away.  And  we  pray  that  thou 
wilt  prepare  us  for  all  the  duties  of  life.  Prepare  us  for  its  disappointments; 
for  its  sorrows ;  for  whatever  is  in  reserve  for  us.  And  may  we  not  shrink 
who  are  the  followers  of  the  Sufferer.  Grant  that  we  may  be  willing  to  bear 
our  cross,  as  thou  didst  bear  thine.  We  that  are  sin-laden — should  we 
not  suffer,  when  thou  the  sinless  One  made  an  offering  for  our  sins?  May 
we  not  count  ourselves  better  than  the  Master;  and  may  we  rejoice  from  day-to- 
day that  we  are  permitted  to  suffer  for  Christ's  sake,  and  be  only  anxious  that 
suffering  shall  do  its  perfect  work,  and  make  us  patient  and  gentle,  and 
make  us  more  and  more  reverential,  and  truthful,  and  hopeful,  that  the  work 
of  God  may  be  perfectly  done  in  us.  And  as  we  do  not  doubt  our  frj.ends 
who  are  kind  to  us,  so  may  we  never  doubt  thee,  the  best  of  all  friends. 
Grant  that  our  trust  in  thee  may  be  more  confiding,  and  that  it  may  have 
more  comfort  in  it.  And  in  dark  hours,  and  days  of  discouragement,  what- 
ever else  fails  us,  oh  !  let  not  the  sweet  face  of  Jesus,  looking  upon  us,  full 
of  forgiveness,  and  love,  and  mercy,  fail  us.  And  may  thy  countenance,  by 
night  and  by  day,  at  home  and  abroad,  and  everywhere,  be  our  Comfort  and 
our  Guiding  Star. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  us  now  assembled, 
pastor  and  people,  for  the  last  time  for  the  space  of  weeks — it  may  be  for 
the  last  time.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  we  may  separate,  commending  each 
other  to  God.  Grant  that  in  a  holy  hope,  and  in  the  firm  faith  of  thy  truth, 
we  may  go  on  our  several  ways.  In  trouble,  when  anxious  with  forebo- 
dings, grant  that  we  may  leave  everything  in  thine  hands.  Thou  wilt  do  bet- 
ter for  us  than  we  can  do  for  ourselves.  Living  or  dying  may  we  be  the 
Lord's.  And  whether  or  not  we  see  each  other  again  in  the  flesh,  grant 
that  we  may  have  the  hope  burning  brighter  as  the  days  grow  darker,  that 
we  shall  meet  in  heaven.  We  pray  that  none  of  us  may  be  wrecked  by  the 
way ;  that  all  of  us  may  be  saved,  and  that  we  may  all  meet  together  a  re- 
joicing household  to  be  forever  in  the  presence  of  our  Father. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son  and  Spirit.     Amen, 


PRAYER   AFTER   THE   SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  word  of  truth 
spoken,  and  grant  that  it  may  do  good  to  every  one.  May  it  remove  impres- 
sions and  mistakes  that  are  hindering  any.  May  it  quicken  some  that  need 
quickening.  May  it  encourage  some  who  are  on  the  way  toward  thee. 
Stretch  out  thine  hands  again  to  those  who  have  refused  thy  message  to 
come.  Call  again  to  those  who  have  refused  to  hear.  O  Lord  Jesus !  bring 
back  the  wandering,  and  forgive  them  all  their  sins,  and  all  their  mistakes. 
Overlook  them,  and  sanctify  them,  and  save  them  with  an  everlasting  salva* 
tiou. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son  and  Spirit.    Amen. 


XXIL 

Fiery  Darts. 


INVOCATION 


Jnhj  Tl,  1870. 

BT!  srraoirms  Ttnto  us,  onr  Father,  according  to  tlie  measure  of  thine 
owu  merey.  Look  not  upon  our  desert,  nor  upon  our  power  of  re- 
ciprocating or  even  understanding  tliy  mercy  ;  but  do  unto  us  according  to 
tliy  divine  love  and  mai^nanimity.  And  as  thou  art  infinite,  and  dost  pour 
forth  from  thy  nature  infinite  stores,  not  waiting  to  see  whether  thy  crea^- 
tures  can  receive  more ;  so  we  stand  in  an  atinospiiere  i.t  mercy.  As  all  the 
world  can  breathe  of  thine  outward  blessings,  so  grant  unto  us  thy  spiritual 
affluence  without  measure,  that  we  may  rejoice  in  thee;  that  we  may  seem 
to  ourselves  as  much  shined  upon  by  the  sun  of  Righteousness,  as  the  world 
is  by  the  outward  sun ;  that  we  may  Iiave  in  it  light,  and  warmth,  and 
summer  and  fruit,  as  a  paradise  for  rejoicing.  We  pray  tliat  thou  wilt  ac- 
cept the  thanksgiving  which  we  offer,  and  help  us,  this  morning,  in  thy  pre- 
sence, to  be  glad.  Help  us  to  praise  thee,  and  bring  forth  from  our  memory 
arguments  of  praise.  How  much  has  every  one  of  us  to  thank  God  for  !  We 
look  back  upon  the  way  in  which  we  have  been  led  ;  we  look  back  upon  the 
knowledge  which  thou  hast  imprinted  upon  our  souls  ;  and  we  thank  thee 
for  all  thy  dealings  with  us.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  blefs  the  singing  of 
thy  praises,  the  prayers  which  we  shall  offer,  the  reading  of  the  word,  the 
speaking  from  it,  our  meditation  upon  it,  and  the  services  of  the  day, 
whether  here  or  in  our  homes.    We  ask  it  for  Clirist's  sake.    Amen. 

23. 


FIERY  DARTS. 


"Above  all,  taking  the  shield  of  faith,  wherewith  ye  shall  be  able  t 
quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked." — Epn.,  VI.,  16. 


Instead  of  "  above  all,"  it  would  be  better  if  it  were  rendered  over 
all ;  for  the  figure  is  one  drawn  from  the  great  Roman  shield — not 
from  a  buckler,  but  from  the  gi'eat  shield  by  which  the  whole  person 
was  protected.  This  is  a  part  of  a  beautiful  military  figure.  It  ia 
drawn  with  singular  skill  through  almost  all  parts  of  the  armor  known 
and  used  in  the  old  Roman  warfare.  The  apostle's  eye  was  caught, 
evidently,  with  the  military  organization  of  the  Romans.  The  Jews 
were  essentially  a  brave  and  military  people.  We  have,  therefore,  in 
the  writings  of  the  apostle,  frequent  references  to  military  affairs. 

He  also  employs  illustrations  drawn  from  architecture  ;  but  always 
in  reference  to  its  uses,  and  never  in  reference  to  its  beauty.  Although 
Grecian  literature  and  the  Grecian  language  at  this  time  predomi- 
nated throughout  the  East,  and  although  this  Avas  the  spoken  language, 
probably — at  any  rate  by  the  commerce  of  Palestine,  and  mostly  by 
the  educated  classes  in  the  cities  of  Palestine  ;  and  although  Palestine 
itself  was  filled — particularly  in  the  North,  and  over  the  Jordan  on 
the  other  side — with  villages  and  with  cities  which  were  built  by 
Greek  architects  ;  and  although  the  Grecians  had  then  the  same  rela- 
tion to  commerce  which  now  the  Jews  themselves  have,  in  all  the 
world,  and  the  Greek  was  the  merchant  of  the  world  ;  yet,  Paul  never 
seems  to  have  caught  one  single  ray  of  the  light  of  art.  Nor  do  I 
recollect  a  solitary  instance  in  which  picture,  or  statue,  or  temple,  was 
used  by  him  on  account  of  its  beauty.  Nor  do  I  recollect  one  single 
passage  in  the  New  Testament  which  distinctively  recognizes  what 
we  should  call  the  esthetic,  or  the  science  of  beauty,  which  constituted 
not  only  a  large  part,  but  which,  in  connection  with  philosophy,  was 
tlie  characteristic  element  of  the  civilization  of  the  Grecian  world — 
which  world  had  overspread  Palestine.  And  it  secins  very  strange 
that  the  Jews  should  have  caught  so  little  of  the  spirit  of  the  Greeks. 
It  is  a  testimony  to  what  you  might  call  thorotigh-hrcedlnrj.  For,  in 
order  to  maintain  spirituality,  the  Jew  was  forbidden  utterly  to  make 

SisnAT  MoRxnco,   Jnly    31,   1870.    LebsoxiEiu.   VL    Uvm.nb  (I'lj mouth  Collection) 
Nos.  23,  8f8,  '•  SUiuiug  Shoro." 


380  FIERT  DARTS. 

any  image  of  God  out  of  anything  above,  or  out  of  anything  below, 
or  out  of  anything  upon  the  earth,  or  to  liken  God  to  anything,  and 
was  to  maintain  inviolate  an  ideal  and  spiritual  conception  of  Jehovah. 
This  primary,  and  always  observed  command,  wrought  in  the  nation 
an  indisposition  to  represent  anything..  They  never  became  artists, 
and  never  studied  human  life,  nor  the  human  form,  with  reference  to 
art.  So  that  side  of  the  nature  of  man  was  never  developed  among 
them.  And  for  thousands  of  years,  even  after  they  came  under  the 
influence  of  such  elements,  in  their  most  imposing  forms,  they  still  re- 
sisted and  threw  ofi"  the  aesthetic  element. 

But  the  moment  the  Jew  was  brought  into  the  neighborhood  of 
commerce,  he  showed  aptitudes.  The  moment  architecture,  in  its  in- 
dustrial and  economic  relations,  was  brought  before  the  apostle's  mind, 
he  saw  the  elements  of  it.  The  moment  the  courts,  or  the  adminis- 
tration of  Roman  government  in  the  shape  of  a  military  force,  the 
moment  camps  and  armed  soldiers  were  brought  before  him,  he  saw 
illustrations  and  analogies  enough  that  might  be  di'awn  from  them. 
And  this  is  the  most  masterly  of  them : 

"  Take  unto  you  the  whole  armor  of  God,  that  ye  may  be  able 
to  withstand  in  the  evil  day  [that  is,  in  the  great  battle-day],  and  hav- 
ing done  all  [or  rather  having  overcome  all]  to  stand  " — as  Grant  did 
in  the  Wilderness,  and  as  other  generals  did  not,  who  always  hauled 
off  to  repair  after  a  battle,  and  so  never  gained  anything.  The  apostle 
says,  "  Fight  your  battle  through,  and  hold  your  ground  after  you 
have  fought  it.  Make  use  of  your  victory."  There  are  a  great  many 
who  fight  a  battle,  and  then  run,  and  lose  the  advantage.  "  Stand, 
therefore,  having  your  loins  girt  about  with  truth,  and  having  on  the 
breastplate  of  righteousness  ;  your  feet  shod  with  the  preparation  of 
the  Gospel  of  peace  ;  above  all,  taking  the  shield  of  faith,  wherewith 
ye  shall  be  able  to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked." 

Not  to  pursue  the  figure  fmther,  as  this  is  the  theme  which  I  shall 
discuss,  I  will  speak  upon  it. 

What  are  these  "  fiery  darts  "  ?  Was  it  the  glitter  of  the  arrow 
that  he  had  in  his  imagination,  as  it  flies  through  the  air  ?  In  the 
first  place,  it  is  very  doubtful  if  one  sees  the  glitter  of  arrows  under 
such  circumstances,  unless  we  believe  in  enormous  deliveries.  The 
ancients  had  what  might  be  called  the  homhs  of  the  bow.  As  we,  with 
artillery,  throw  explosive  shot  that  not  only  destroy  by  their  frag- 
ments, but  set  on  fire  and  burn  ;  so  the  prototypes  of  these  were  arrows, 
the  ends  of  which  were  bound  up  with  inflammable  material ;  this 
was  io-nited,  and  the  arrows  were  delivered  into  the  face  of  the  enemy, 
or  into  his  ships ;  or,  if  it  was  a  siege,  into  the  midst  of  his  city. 
These  flaming  darts,  these  missiles  that  cai-ried  fire  in  every  direction, 


FIERY  DARTS.  381 

are  "  the  fiery  darts "  of  which  the  apostle  speaks.  And  they  are 
likened  to  temptations.  That  is,  there  are  temptations  which  are  like 
these  fire-carrying  arrows.  Inflammatory  temptations  there  are,  which, 
as  it  were,  set  men  on  fire. 

There  are  a  great  many  temptations  that  men  experience  which  are 
slow.  They  are  comparatively  imperceptible.  Their  access  is  not  dis- 
cerned. Their  process  of  working  is  not  at  the  time  understood.  We 
rather  see  them  in  their  efiects  than  in  their  actual  presence. 

There  are  many  temptations  which  are  derived  from  selfishness ; 
that  are  insidious ;  that  are  so  closely  allied  to  duty  that  we  do  not 
distinguish  the  one  from  the  other. 

There  are  many  temptations  which  sj^ring  from  pride ;  which  are 
cold  ;  which  incline  us  to  wi'ong  by  negative  elements,  rather  than  by 
positive.  There  are  many  temptations  which  come  from  conservative 
elements  in  the  soul.  All  that  gi-eat  round  and  realm  of  wrong  which 
consists  in  not  doing,  is  silent,  unconscious,  slow,  and  oftentimes  even 
fi'igid. 

Besides  these,  there  are  temptations  which  rush,  and  which  make 
themselves  apparent  in  the  beginning,  and  all  the  way  through.  And 
a  veiy  large  class  there  is  of  them.  The  genus  is  large  ;  the  species 
are  many.  They  may,  in  some  sense,  be  said  always  to  agitate,  and 
often  to  inflame,  and  actually  set  on  fire  the  soul.  And  it  is  tempta- 
tions of  this  kind  that  the  apostle  represents  as  being  thrown  by  the 
great  adversary,  the  general  of  evil,  the  devil,  who  lays  siege  to  man 
as  to  a  city  ;  or  makes  war  upon  him  as  one  warrior  makes  war  upon 
another ;  and  assaults  him  in  one  way  and  another,  but,  especially  by  the 
use  of  these  fiery  aiTows ;  or,  in  other  words,  by  assaults  which  raise  up 
those  great,  powerful  basilar  passions  which  are  so  indispensable  to  the 
mechanism  of  life,  but  which  are  by  iiregularity  and  misuse  rendered 
80  full  of  mischief,  and  the  causes  of  such  immense  and  desolating; 
sins. 

Of  these  temptations  I  shall  speak  more  in  the  sequel.  I  only- 
mention  them  now  for  the  sake  of  clearing  and  setting  before  you  pre- 
cisely the  subject  of  the  text,  and  dwelling  upon  them  thus  far. 

Now,  against  all  these  temptations  which  come  to  our  lower  na- 
ture, and  which  are  in  their  character  inflammatoiy  ;  or  which,  if  WB' 
may  change  the  figure,  act  like  a  ferment ;  or  which,  changing  the 
figure  again,  are  like  a  smouldering  fire,  which  sometimes  breaks  out 
in  blisters,  and  sometimes  burns  silently,  like  a  fire  in  a  partition,  with- 
out air,  and  will  not  come  out — against  all  these  temptations  the  apos- 
tle does  not  say,  "Oppose  the  sword  or  the  spear" — they  can  not  be 
fought  with  good  chances  of  success.  You  are  not  to  use  the  sandals 
to  get  out  of  the  way  with, — they  are  not  to  be  run  away  from.  You 
are  to  oppose  to  these  "darts"  the  great  "shield  of  faith." 


.382  FIERY  DARTS. 

Well,  that,  to  most  of  yon,  is  saying  that  you  are  to  oppose  nothing 
to  temptations  ;  because /ai^A  really  means  about  nothing  to  you.  It 
is  a  word  that  means  so  much  ;  it  is  a  word  that  has  so  many  defini- 
tions that  it  is  difiicult  to  tell  just  what  it  does  mean.  One  thinks  it 
means  this  ;  another  thinks  it  means  that.  And  confusion  has  been  so 
badly  confounded  in  the  matter,  that  for  the  most  part  I  think  people 
do  not  know  what  it  means.  Therefore,  to  tell  them,  "  Against  such 
temptations  as  these  you  must  o2:)pose  faith,"  is  to  tell  them,  "  You 
must  get  rid  of  these  temptations  in  the  best  way  you  can." 
'  Is  there  any  clear  understanding  of  what  faith  is  ?  Without  going 
into  theological  niceties  at  all,  I  propose,  first,  to  take  the  simple  Scrip- 
ture statement  of  what  faith  is,  and  then  give  an  analysis  or  expres- 
sion of  it  in  our  modern  tongue,  and  according  to  our  modern  habits 
of  philosophy.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  matter  may  be  so  disabused 
that  every  man  may  see  exactly  what  is  meant  by  faith,  in  general ; 
and  what  will  be  specific  acts  of  faith. 

In  the  eleventh  chapter  of  Hebrews  the  writer,  whoever  he  was, 
(it  is  in  doubt  who  wrote  it),  declares,  "  Now  faith  is  the  substance  of 
things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen."  Language  could 
not  be  more  precise.  As  I  think  you  will  see  when  we  carry  the  matter 
out  to  the  full,  language  could  not  be  found  which  would  more  exactly 
and  more  clearly  comprehend  the  whole  subject  than  that.  "  Faith  is" 
— what  ?  The  substance  of  things  ?  Exactly  not.  If  it  were  any- 
thing that  existed,  and  had  a  form,  and  was  measurable,  ponderable, 
estimable,  then  it  could  not  be  faith.  It  would  be  sensuousness. 
"  Faith  is  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for."  It  is  something  that  is 
imagined.  It  is  not  something  that  exists ;  or  rather,  it  is  something 
that  exists  in  imagination.  It  is  that  which  men  hope  for.  It  lies  be- 
yond, out  of  reach  and  out  of  sight. 

That  that  is  the  meaning  which  is  intended,  the  next  clause  indi 
•cates,  viz.,  "  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen."  It  is  that  which  man 
realizes  without  the  use  of  his  eyes  or  senses. 

Well,  is  there  anything  that  men  know  without  using  their  senses? 
We  know  what  the  sphere  of  the  senses  is.  By  touch,  by  sight,  by 
taste,  by  smell,  by  hearing,  we  recognize  the  existence  of  a  world  not 
to  be  undervalued.  The  great  substratum  on  which  another  life  is 
built,  is  this  material,  physical  world ;  and  all  that  belongs  to  it  we 
recognize  by  our  senses,  one  or  other  of  them  separately,  or  several  of 
them  conjointly. 

But  the  apostle  says,  *  There  is  something  more.  There  is  another 
range.  There  is  truth  beyond  that  which  the  ear  hears,  or  the  eye 
sees,  or  the  hand  handles,  or  the  nose  smells,  or  the  tongue  tastes.' 
'There  is  a  world  which  science,  as  the  minister  of  knowledge  to  the 


FIERY  DARTS,  383 

lower  senses,  does  not  reach.  Can  science  teach  honor,  describe  it, 
weigh  it,  divide  it,  in  any  way  that  you  know  of?  And  yet,  is 
there  not  such  a  thing  as  honor  ?  And  can  science,  or  any  of  the 
senses,  in  any  way  teach  a  single  one  of  those  conceptions  to  which 
we  come  by  education  and  by  refinement  ?  Does  not  the  development 
of  the  human  mind  by  education  lift  a  man  at  once  into  a  higher 
sphere  ?  It  does  not  lift  him  above  his  senses  ;  but  through  his  senses, 
primarily,  does  it  not  develop  a  higher  range  of  faculties  which  discern 
truths  innumerable  and  transcendently  important — so  important  as  to 
constitute  the  difierence  between  civilization  and  savageism ;  or  as  to 
constitute  the  difference  between  genius  and  mere  di-udge-labor  ?  Does 
there  not  spring  out  of  the  higher  development  of  the  mind  the  capac- 
ity to  recognize  things  which  never  present  themselves  to  the  eye,  nor 
to  any  of  the  senses  ?  And  are  not  these  things  unseen  ?  Are  they 
not  things,  when  men  contemplate  them,  to  be  "  hoped  for  " — that  is 
to  say,  to  be  looked  for — in  a  future  and  higher  sphere  ? — not  to  be 
looked  for,  however,  as  we  look  for  crystals,  or  ores,  or  fruit ;  as  we 
look  for  substances  that  are  produced,  or  that  grow  out  of  the  ground. 

Well,  if  this  be  a  fact,  as  I  have  no  doubt  it  is,  there  comes,  then, 
next,  the  question,  "  What  is  the  adaptation  of  the  mind  for  this  ?"  If 
you  take  mental  philosophy,  as  founded  at  all  on  physiology  (for  with- 
out physiology  mental  philosophy  is  fog,  is  a  mirage;  and  a  man 
might  just  as  well  attempt  to  plow  the  soil,  or  sail  the  ship,  that  he 
sees  by  mirage  in  the  sky,  as  to  attempt  to  use  a  mental  philosophy 
which  does  not  base  itself  upon  physiology) — if  you  look  at  the  human 
mind  in  this  direction,  you  perceive  that  there  are  two  classes  of  facul- 
ties given  to  man.  First,  there  are  those  which  are  called  the  basilar 
faculties.  You  may  look,  perhaps,  in  vain,  in  the  books,  for  these 
fiicullies;  but  you  will  not  have  to  look  far  if  you  look  into  yourself,  to 
find  them.  They  are  those  faculties  of  the  mind  which  act  through 
the  body,  and  upon  those  physical  conditions  on  which  the  body  itself 
depends ;  through  the  propagating  instincts ;  through  the  defensoiy 
instincts ;  through  the  force-giving  instincts ;  through  that  enginery  of 
the  mind  by  which  man  is  enabled  to  deal  with  the  physical  globe,  and 
with  those  creatures  that  populate  it,  and  which  adapts  him  to  the  cir- 
cumstances in  which  he  was  born. 

Besides  this  perceptive  lower  nature,  there  is  the  receptive  reason. 
This  begins  to  work  with  the  higher  nature.  Then  there  are  the  higher 
realms  where  are  found  the  noble  sentiments  of  truth  ;  of  justice  ;  of 
love  ;  of  mercy.  There  are  intuitions  in  these  things.  There  are  higher 
elements  of  mind  by  which  men  grow  above  the  sordid  and  the  sensu- 
ous, the  low  and  the  secular ;  by  which  men  more  and  more  live. 

Society  at  large  naturally  divides  itself  in  this  way  ;  and  we  speak 


384  FIERT  DARTS. 

of  those  persong  as  refined  who  are  not  only  educated  to  the  senses,  but 
are  educated  to  the  higher  forms  or  methods  of  thinking  or  acting. 

What  the  apostle  all  the  way  through  means,  generally,  hjfaithy 
is,  that  it  is  that  action  of  the  mind  which  essentially  consists  in  the 
employment  of  these  super-sensuous  faculties,  or  that  part  of  the  mind 
which  works,  not  with  matter,  and  on  matter,  but  on  qualities ;  on  in- 
visible truths ;  on  things  that  are,  but  that  give  no  forms  which  the 
mind  recognizes  through  the  body — sentiments  and  gi*eat  spiritual 
truths  which  man  is  endowed  with  the  capacity  to  appreciate  and  to 
believe  in,  and  which  never  reduce  themselves  to  the  measurement  of 
the  senses. 

He  is  in  the  flesh  who  lives  by  the  use  of  the  mere  fleshly  instincts 
or  organs ;  and  he  is  in  the  spii-it,  as  Paul  reasons  in  Romans,  who 
lives  by  the  spirit — still  keeping  this  same  generic  division ;  namely, 
that  he  who  lives  by  the.  use  of  the  higher  faculties  of  his  nature  is 
living  in  a  state  of  spirituality,  in  a  state  of  faith ;  and  he  that  lives 
by  his  sight,  by  his  senses,  is  living  in  the  flesh.  He  is  carnal ;  he  is 
secular.  This  great  division  of  men,  they  that  live  by  the  body  and 
they  that  live  by  the  mind,  is  recognized  by  society  and  by  philosophy. 
And  when  you  come  to  look  at  it,  you  see  it  in  the  Bible  as  well  as 
anywhere  else.  There  are  two  sorts  of  people  living.  There  is  one 
class  that  are  living  by  the  use  of  the  bodily  senses  in  material  things. 
They  are  in  the  flesh ;  and  they  cannot  please  God.  And  there  is  an- 
other class  who  are  living  by  the  use  of  the  reason  and  the  moral  senti- 
ments.    They  discern  qualities,  and  values  in  qualities. 

Ask  an  old  miserable  miser,  "  What  are  honesty  and  honor  worth?" 
and  he  will  say  to  you,  "  Nothing,  unless  they  give  a  man  a  little  more 
credit  on  the  exchange."  He  does  not  recognize  anything  except  a 
material  quality.  If  it  can  be  made  to  turn  into  silver  and  gold,  honor 
is  something ;  and  if  not,  it  is  nothing.  And  his  idea  of  character  is 
simply  a  little  drop  of  water  that  will  turn  the  mill-wheel  of  his  pur- 
poses better — that  is  all.  But  go  to  a  plenary  man — a  man  full  of 
living,  gushing  instincts  of  mercy  and  goodness ;  full  of  manliness — 
and  ask  him,  "  What  is  honor  ?  Is  it  merely  a  name  to  cover  expe- 
diency ■?"  and  how  like  a  hemisphere  honor  glows  befoi*e  his  mind,  full 
of  radiancy  and  of  stars !  Describe  it  he  cannot.  Measure  it  he  cannot. 
It  is  illimitable.  If  I  say  to  him,  "  Bring  it  down  so  that  I  can  under- 
ifitand  it,"  he  turns  to  me  and  says,  "  If  you  do  not  know  what  it  is  by 
feeling  it,  I  cannot  tell  you  what  it  is."  It  is  something  beyond  the 
ear,  the  eye,  the  hand,  the  tongue,  or  the  organ  of  smelling.  And  yet, 
it  is  real.  Ten  thousand  men  would  die  to-morrow,  quicker  than  to 
give  up  that  which  has  no  physical  expression,  and  no  marketable 
value,  but  which  is  to  them  a  vital,  absolute  and  glowing  reality. 


FIERY  DARTS.  385 

Nothing  is  real  to  them,  if  that  is  not.  And  yet,  the  senses  cannot 
recognize  it  at  all. 

This  honor  often  moves  in  a  low  sphere,  being  merely  the  low  frag- 
ment of  a  higher  thing.  It  is,  as  it  were,  the  mere  skirt  of  the  garment 
which  the  true  angel  of  honor,  flying  through  the  air,  lets  down  to  men. 
There  is  a  military  honor ;  there  is  a  social  honor ;  there  is  honor  in 
business  ;  there  are  various  kinds  of  honor ;  honor  puts  difierent  measure- 
ments and  permissions  on  itself ;  but  it  is  in  every  case  the  measure- 
ment of  something  that  has  no  sensuous  existence,  which  has  no  exist- 
ence except  as  it  dwells  in  men's  thoughts  absolutely ;  and  which  they 
believe  in  and  recognize  as  being  greater  than  things  that  are ;  than 
things  that  can  be  seen  and  measured.  And  these  are  what  the  apostle 
means  when  he  speaks  of  things  which  are  not,  bringing  to  naught 
things  that  are.  This  power  of  sentiment,  of  truth,  of  beauty,  of  love, 
and  of  honor,  brings  to  naught  the  maxims,  the  policies, — ten  thousand 
things  of  this  mortal  life. 

He,  then,  who  lives  in  this  higher  realm,  who  dwells  in  the  upper 
part  of  his  nature,  who  is  allied  to  God  in  the  Spiritual  world,  is  in  a 
generic  state  of  faith.  That  is,  faith  is  living  so  that  you  have  before 
your  mind  "  The  substance  of  things  hoped  for."  Faith  is  the  "  Evidence 
of  things  not  seen."  It  is  the  recognition  of  those  truths  which  live  in 
the  great  invisible. 

This  is  the  generic  definition  of  faith.  It  will  have  specifics.  That 
is  to  say,  for  instance,  there  will  be  a  faith  of  fear :  in  other  words,  a 
man  Avill  oftentimes  refuse  invisible  truths  under  the  insph-ation  of  fear. 
A  recognition  of  things  unseen  is  faith  ;  but  a  specific  of  this  faith  is 
fear.  Then  there  is  a  "  faith  that  works  by  love,"  we  are  told.  That 
is  to  say,  faith  is  a  sense  of  the  invisible  ;  but  a  specific  of  it  is  such  a 
sense  working  through  the  love  element.  So  there  is  a  ''faith  that 
sanctifies  the  soul " ;  but  it  is  a  specific  under  this  great  generic.  The 
ruling  idea  of  faith  is  the  recognition  and  experience  of  the  power  of 
those  great  truths  which  are  not  sensuous,  nor  secular,  nor  carnal,  but 
which  exist  only  in  the  contemplation  of  a  man's  higher  reason  and 
higher  moral  endowments ;  the  special  practical  applications  of  this 
recognition  will  be  found  in  its  working  with  specific  sentiments  of  the 
soul. 

Now,  the  Apostle  Paul  says,  "  When  these  fiery  darts  of  tempta- 
tion, these  anows  with  burning  tips,  come  flying  toward  you,  put 
before  you  the  armor  which  shall  cover  your  whole  self — the  shield  of 
faith."  It  is  as  if  he  had  said,  "The  grand  resource  of  men  against 
their  passions,  is,  to  live  in  the  higher  moral  sentiments  ;  to  abide  in 
them  ;  to  dwell  there  ;  to  experience  these  elements,  and  have  tlie  habit 
of  usinn  them." 


386  FIERT  DARTS. 

I  have  taken  a  great  many  words  to  explain  thia,  because  it  lies  a 
little  out  of  the  track  of  what  is  the  supposed  teaching  of  the  apostle ; 
but  I  trust  it  is  plain  to  you,  what  is  his  substantial  teaching  in  this 
dii-ection.  The  dwelling  habitually  in  this  higher  region ;  the  living  by 
faith ;  the  abiding, — not  in  any  metaphysical,  or  theological,  or  mystical, 
or  specially  administered  state,  which  some  men  have  by  the  grace  of 
God,  and  other  men  have  not, — but  in  the  higher  range  of  every  man's 
soul,  and  in  commerce  with  God  and  holy  things — that,  in  the  first 
place,  redeems  a  man  from  temptation. 

It  is  very  easy  to  shoot  arrows  down ;  and  they  accelerate  in  speed 
at  every  single  foot,  because  to  the  strength  of  the  bow  is  added  the  at- 
ti'action  of  gravitation.  And  upon  the  heads  of  those  who  live  low  the 
bolts,  the  aiTows  of  temptation  which  the  devil  throws  down,  fall  with 
double  force.  But  the  men  who  live  high  have  this  advantage,  that 
when  the  devil  shoots  up  at  them,  against  the  force  of  the  bow  which 
drives  the  missile  upward  is  the  power  of  the  big  globe,  which  claims 
tribute  of  everything  that  flies  in  the  air,  and  pulls  it  back  again.  And 
BO,  every  foot  the  arrows  go  up,  they  go  slower  and  slower.  And  if 
stronger  bows  are  brought  into  requisition,  and  the  arrows  are  thrown 
a  little  further  and  a  little  further,  you  must  go  higher  and  higher, 
until  with  the  best  bows  they  cannot  reach  you.  One  reason  why  some 
men  are  tempted  more  than  others,  is  that  the  altitude  at  which  they 
live  is  not  so  high. 

An  old  gentleman  who  used  to  live  in  Indianapolis,  built  his  house 
in  a  dry  ravine,  and  when  the  river  bank  gave  way,  in  an  extraordi- 
nary freshet,  he  had  the  full  benefit  of  the  flood.  The  water  swept 
round  and  round  his  house.  But  his  neighbors,  who  were  almost 
within  hand's  reach  of  him,  were  high  and  dry.  They  were  safe,  be- 
cause they  built  on  higher  ground  than  he  did. 

If  you  travel  in  Europe,  you  will  be  struck  with  two  things — that 
in  olden  times  they  used  to  build  their  towers  and  castles  on  the  tops 
of  the  most  inaccessible  rocks,  so  that  there  were  perpendicular  preci- 
pices, sometimes  hundreds  of  feet,  below,  and  only  a  narrow  way  to  go 
up  there  ;  and  that  there  was  not  a  window  or  door  nearer  than  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  feet  to  the  ground,  so  that  they  had  to  be  hoisted  up  to  the 
second  story  before  they  could  enter.  Not  only  was  it  difficult  for  the 
enemy  to  get  up  there,  but  when  they  got  up  there,  the  lower  story 
being  massive  and  unopen,  they  found  it  hard  to  get  in.  But  if  they 
had  built  their  houses  on  the  level  ground,  and  had  doors  and  windows 
near  the  ground,  how  much  easier  it  would  have  been  for  an  armed 
for-ce  to  take  possession  of  them  ! 

Men  who  live  low  down  in  their  nature  are  within  the  reach  of 
temptations  that  spring  from  the  fiery  passions  ;  but  men  who  live  far 


FIERT  DARTS.  387 

up  in  their  nature ;  men  who  think  just  things  ;  men  who  never  permit 
their  imagination  to  go  out  foraging,  are  beyond  the  reach  of  such 
temptations. 

Sometimes  men  go  over  a  battle-field  when  the  battle  is  raging, 
"  to  see ;"  and  get  then*  pay  for  it ;  and  men  sometimes  go  out  when 
the  battles  of  life  are  being  waged,  and  come  back  shot.  Frequently 
men  go  over  the  land  prospecting — and  that  is  not  so  bad ;  but  in 
moral  things  the  less  men  know  about  wickedness  the  better  for  them. 
The  imagination  is  accustomed  to  sail  over  forbidden  things.  It  is  ac- 
customed to  play  vulture.  The  vulture,  hovering  high,  but  with  eyes 
prone,  looks  over  the  landscape  at — what  ?  The  lambs  that  frisk  and 
fi-olic  in  the  meadows  ?  Oh  no.  At  the  gay  flowers  in  the  fields  ?  Oh 
no.  At  the  vineyards  with  luscious  fruit  upon  the  purfled  boughs  of 
autumn  ?  Oh  no — he  looks  at  carrion.  Not  the  live  sheep,  but  the 
dead  one  ;  not  fragi'ant  flowers,  but  stinking  carrion — that  is  what  the 
vulture  sees,  and  seeing,  plunges  down  to  feed  upon.  Of  all  the  things 
which  the  sun  makes,  not  one  attracts  his  eye.  He  only  cares  for  the 
things  which  death  preys  upon. 

There  be  men  who  sail,  in  imagination,  over  the  spheres  of  life,  and 
see  nothing  but  that  which  comes  from  the  basilar  ficulties ;  from  the 
lower  life  ;  from  the  baser  nature.  Wherever  there  is  brutal  force ; 
wherever  there  is  cunning,  and  its  various  games ;  wherever  there  is 
the  ever-bubbling  toil ;  wherever  there  is  the  conflict  of  the  passions ; 
wherever  there  is  the  strife  of  death,  there  their  eye  fastens  itself  on 
things  that  are  feculent,  foul,  death-struck,  and  death-breeding. 

There  are  men  who  do  not  mean  to  be  dishonest,  who  do  not  mean 
to  steal,  but  who  say,  "  How  easy  I  could  put  this  so,  and  put  that  so, 
and  make  a  very  handsome  pile !  And  nobody  would  find  it  out.  But 
of  course  I  would  not  do  it.     I  want  to  be  honest." 

Now,  no  man  can  afibrd  even  to  think  dishonesty.  No  man  can 
afibrd  to  think  murder  or  cruelty.  No  man,  according  to  the  testimo- 
ny of  Jesus,  can' look  upon  a  woman  to  lust  after  her  without  com- 
mitting adultery  in  his  heart.  And  so  it  is  with  the  permissions  of  the 
l^assions.  It  is  not  safe  for  a  man  to  dwell  down  in  the  gi'cat  basilar 
realm.  It  is  not  even  safe  to  look  into  it  any  more  than  you  have 
to.  If  you  would  be  free  from  temptation,  you  must  live  above  it ;. 
you  must  not  have  commerce  with  it.  You  must  from  d.iy  to  day  fly 
higher,  and  abide  higher.  The  great  invisible  realm;  the  realm  which 
is  ministered  to  you  through  your  higher  reason,  and  your  moral  in- 
stincts, by  the  Holy  Ghost — that  is  the  realm  where  your  thoughts 
must  live,  abide,  dwell,  from  day-to-day.  And  men  who  do  live  there 
are  comparatively  free  from  these  temptations,  these  arrows,  these 
"fiery  darts."    It  is  here  that  "  the  shield  of  faith  "  protects  them.     If 


388  FIERY  VARTS. 

a  man  is  divinely  constituted,  if  he  is  strongly  fortified,  if  he  has  the 
armor  of  faith,  and  cariies  it  with  him  from  day-to-day,  into  his  busi- 
ness, and  everywhere  he  goes,  then  when  he  comes  into  the  conflicts 
of  temptation  he  is  safe.  If  a  man  is  a  man  of  war,  and  he  has  to  go 
into  danger,  let  him  put  on  his  armor,  and  be  prepared  for  whatever 
may  befall  him,  by  habitually  dwelling  in  this  higher  realm,  and  learn- 
ing how  to  control  all  its  resources  of  power. 

I  proceed,  now,  to  a  few  points  of  application. 
The  inflammation  of  the  human  passions,  in  the  fii'st  place,  deserves 
special  consideration.  Observation  shows  that  our  lower  feelings  are 
generally  subject  to  a  kind  of  fermentation  or  inflammation.  I  mean 
this  a  little  differently  from  the  line  of  thought  in  which  I  have  already 
indulged.  Those  who  have  had  the  bringing  up  of  the  young  are 
sometimes  astonished  at  the  tenacity  with  which  they  seem  to  go  wrong. 
The  young  themselves  are  sometimes  astonished  at  it.  I  remember, 
in  my  own  case,  how  soon,  ideas  once  getting  entrance  into  my  mind, 
I  seemed  to  be  utterly  powerless  to  throw  them  off,  until  after  they 
had  had  a  certain  course.     They  ran  like  a  fever. 

Take  curiosity,  as  it  is  allied  with  the  lower  passions  of  human  na- 
ture. I  may  say,  generically,  that  in  all  robust  natures,  largely  organ- 
ized, supplied  with  a  great  reservoh-  of  power,  there  is,  in  early  life,  a 
principle  of  curiosity  which  attaches  itself  to  that  part  of  their  nature 
which  is  most  quick  and  earnest — the  lowest  part  usually.  And  this 
curiosity  has  an  inflammatory  action.  And  when  it  is  once  set  in 
operation,  it  is  not  put  out  by  a  word,  nor  by  a  resolution.  It  works 
by  night  and  by  day.  It  forsakes  a  man  when  he  drops  to  sleep,  but 
it  meets  him  the  first  thing  when  he  wakes  again. 

This  will  explain  the  excessive  curiosity  that  the  young  have  for 
things  which,  if  we  be  pure-minded  and  pm-e-mouthed,  seem  to  us  dis- 
gusting, revolting. 

There  is  a  curiosity  in  the  young  to  know  what  intoxication  means. 
It  is  a  morbid,  unhealthy,  intense  feeling.  I  recollect  very  well  that  I 
had  an  impression  that  if  I  should  once  take  a  mouthful  of  wine,  I 
should  see  visions  and  dream  dreams.  I  supposed  that  I  should  be 
lifted  above  all  ordinary  conceptions  of  flavors  and  of  exquisite  excite- 
ments. I  had  read  some  little  of  the  poets ;  I  had  read  some  of  the 
drinking  songs — ^for  the  lyrics  of  the  world  have  been  largely  used  by 
the  devil  for  the  celebration  of  spirits,  and  of  the  faculties  which  most 
naturally  work  with  them.  And  so  I  knew  something  about  these 
things ;  and  I  longed  to  drink  wine.  I  remember  the  first  time  I  ever 
tasted  it.  It  was  at  my  father's  table,  on  Thanksgiving  day.  Father 
pom-ed  out  a  little  Madeira  glass  (some  of  you  will  know  what  that  is) 
ifull  of  wine,  and  that  was  passed  among  eight  children  of  us ;  and  there 


FIERY  DARTS.  389 

was  considerable  left  when  it  got  round !  "When  it  came  to  me,  it 
seemed  as  though  I  had  drank  a  very  small  quantity  of  liquid  fire.  My 
young  mouth  had  not  been  tanned ;  and  of  all  burning,  disagreeable 
flavors,  this  was  the  worst  that  I  could  form  any  conception  of.  I 
think  I  never  tasted  anything  so  horrid  as  that  seemed  then.  I  would 
have  flown  to  a  cup  of  rhubarb  rather  than  to  have  tasted  it  again. 
And  yet,  that  curiosity  was  not  sated.  I  was  sure  that  it  was  not 
wine  that  I  had  tasted.  And  George  Woodruff  and  I  determined  that 
we  would  have  a  drink  of  real  wine.  He  was  to  get  it,  and  I  was  to 
meet  him  at  a  certain  field,  at  a  given  time.  I  was  bound  to  know 
what  wine  was — and  I  did.  I  had  a  taste  of  it  then  ;  and  I  was  going 
to  say  that  it  was  the  last  taste  I  ever  did  have  of  wine.  For  forty 
years  afterwards  I  do  not  suppose  I  took  what  would  amount  to  a 
wine-glass  full,  aside  from  communion  wine — and  that  never  put  me  in 
love  with  wine.  I  remember  how,  on  that  fated  day,  I  lay  in  the  field, 
waiting  for  George.  I  recollect,  now,  watching  the  shadow  of  a  daisy 
as  it  danced  over  the  ground.  I  remember  how  sweet  the  vernal  gi'ass 
smelled.  And  I  remember  the  sensations  which  I  had  when  I  thought 
how,  Avhen  George  came,  we  should  both  take  out  our  cups  and  drink. 
And  I  remember  how  I  felt  when  we  did  drink — taking  only  one  bitter 
swallow,  which  I  spit  out  instantly.  That  was  enough  for  me.  I  could 
not  be  persuaded  to  drink  any  more.  But  up  to  that  time  the  desire, 
the  longing,  which  I  experienced,  to  try  it,  was  intense.  And  I  feel 
great  compassion  for  persons  who  are  tormented  with  a  morbid  curios- 
ity to  tiy  things  which  are  not  worthy  of  them.  Remembering  how  it 
worked  with  me,  I  can  understand  how  it  works  with  others — par- 
ticularly with  persons  of  an  imaginative  nature.  And  all  things  work 
with  persons  of  an  imaginative  nature  on  a  higher  scale  than  with 
others. 

We  perceive  the  excessive  desire  of  the  young  to  use  tobacco.  They 
have  a  morbid  curiosity  about  it.  It  touches  their  vanity.  As  old 
people  desire  above  everything  else  to  seem  young,  so  young  peoi)le  de>- 
sire  above  everything  else  to  seem  old.  And  as  the  "  oldest "  thing  which 
the  young  see,  or  notice,  usually,  is  smoking  or  chewing,  so  they  long 
to  smoke  or  chew.  And  yet,  it  would  seem  as  though  the  angel  that 
fiat  in  the  gate  with  a  sword  had  been  transferred  from  paradise  to  the 
field  of  tobacco,  and  sat  waving  his  weapon,  and  forbidding  men  to 
touch  it.  If  anything  can  be  created  so  that  no  man  could  learn 
to  love  it,  it  seems  to  me  that  tobacco  has  been  so  created.  And  yet, 
boys  that  couhi  hardly  be  persuaded  to  get  well  of  a  fever  by  taking 
paregoric,  or  an  emetic,  or  any  loathsome  medicine,  will  pull  at  the 
hideous  "long-nine,"  and  run  through  the  streets,  and  air  themselves. 


390  FIERT  DARTS. 

and  try  it  again,  and  keep  trying  for  days,  and  weeks,  and  months,  in 
order  to  get  rid  of  nausea,  and  learn  to  smoke. 

It  is  not  merely  vanity,  but  a  prurient  curiosity.  There  is  this  fer* 
mentation ;  there  is  this  inflammation  ;  there  are  these  "  fiery  darts ;" 
there  is  an  actual  process  going  on  in  the  lower  nature,  in  the  passions 
and  appetites,  of  men,  which  creates  a  longing  for  pleasures;  for 
founts  of  pleasure ;  for  going  out  "  to  see."  They  wonder  what  they 
shall  see.     They  are  restless  and  impatient  "  to  know  life,"  as  it  said. 

Although,  fortunately,  my  feet  were  removed  from  the  paths  of 
temptation  betimes,  and  I  never  fell  into  the  snare,  I  recollect  the  be- 
ginnings and  goings  on  in  me  of  longings  to  see  what  life  was.  And 
here  let  me  say  that  many  of  these  longings  might,  by  humanity  on 
the  part  of  parents,  be  removed,  or  modified,  or  oven-uled.  I  recol- 
lect veiy  well  (I  was  a  carefully  brought  up  boy,  as  you  would  know !) 
that  I  was  not  allowed,  at  certain  periods  of  my  life,  to  go  out  of  my 
father's  dooryard.  I  did  though !  I  recollect  that  I  was  never  allowed 
to  go  down  town  on  public  days,  when  I  was  small.  It  was  all  meant 
for  my  good ;  but  it  was  hard  for  me  to  bear.  I  did  not  much  care  as 
long  as  it  was  a  mere  election  crowd,  or  something  of  that  sort ;  but 
when  it  was  general-training  day  (I  speak  to  those  who  were  brought 
up  in  Connecticut)  and  I  stood  in  the  corner  of  the  yard,  and  I  heard 
the  far  boom  of  that  "  kettle  drum,"  as  we  called  it,  and  saw  the  red 
uniforms  in  the  distance  (they  dressed  in  red  then)  I  was  set  all  wild 
with  excitement,  and  I  wept  because  I  could  not  go  down  and  see  what 
was  going  on.  There  was  Ed  Carrington,  and  there  was  Si  Carrington, 
and  there  were  the  other  boys,  no  better  than  I  (poor  miserable  minis- 
ter's son  that  I  was),  going  down  the  street,  probably  with  six  cents 
apiece  in  their  pockets  ;  and  there  I  was,  shut  up  in  fiither's  dooiyard ! 
And  I  stood  looking,  and  listening,  and  longing,  and  crying ;  and  I 
cannot  tell  you  how  much  I  sufiered. 

I  was  a  little  roguish  boy,  as  you  would  be  apt  to  say ;  but  that  was 
not  alL  I  had  an  imagination  that  filled  the  heavens  with  spectres.  I 
saw  the  whole  green  full  of  volunteers.  More  than  that,  I  saw  things 
in  exaggerated  forms,  and  in  undue  proportions.  My  imagination  gave 
rise  to  grotesque  visions.  I  fancied  a  thousand  things  which  had  no 
reality.  And  if  my  father  had  taken  me  down  town,  and  let  me  see 
things  as  they  were,  it  would  have  satisfied  my  curiosity,  and  given  me 
a  coiTect  view  of  things — on  the  same  principle  that  if,  when  a  timid 
horse  is  afraid  of  any  object,  you  bring  hhn  up  to  it,  and  let  him  look 
at  it,  and  smell  of  it,  he  will  no  longer  be  afraid  of  it.  This  would 
have  been  a  great  deal  better  for  me.  Although  I  admit  that  there 
are  a  great  many  things  against  even  the  sight  of  which  the  young 
.should  be  guarded ;  yet,  there  are  many  other  things  which  it  is  better 


FIERT  DARTS,  391 

for  the  parent,  In  biinging  up  the  child,  to  let  him  see.  And  the  pa- 
rent, by  acting  upon  that  hint,  while  exercising  a  judicious  censorship 
over  the  child,  can  cure  this  morbid,  desperate,  most  intolerable  curios- 
ity, wliich  sets  on  fire  the  imaginations  of  children,  and  makes  them 
long  for  things  which,  if  they  are  restrained  from,  they  will  be  apt  to 
find  out  in  surreptitious  modes,  thus  adding  deceit  to  their  curiosity, 
and  rendering  them  liable  to  perversion  in  other  ways. 

Remember,  in  dealing  with  your  children,  that  a  simple  unallowa^ 
ble  desue,  which  ought  not  to  be  indulged,  ought  not,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  be  snubbed,  or  rudely  treated.  It  is  a  fiery  temptation,  it  is  a 
smouldering  fire,  it  is  a  raked-up  fire,  it  is  a  morbid  disease  for  the  time 
being ;  and  it  ought  to  be  treated  accordingly.  Not  that  every  case 
can  be  treated  in  the  way  which  I  have  mentioned ;  but  the  knowledge 
that  there  are  cases  which  can  be  so  ti*eated  will  give  every  discerning 
parent  some  practical  conception  in  respect  to  the  treatment  of  chil- 
dren. 

Tmsting  children  is  as  good  as  trusting  men.  Children  cannot 
govern  themselves  unless  you  give  them  a  chance ;  and  if  you  are  for- 
ever governing  them  they  will  never  have  a  chance.  What  sort  of 
letting  my  child  drive  would  that  be  where  he  rode  with  me,  and  I 
held  the  reins  myself?  Children,  for  the  most  part,  go  with  their 
parents,  and  are  directed  by  their  parents ;  but  if  you  would  make  the 
child  self-reliant,  you  must  let  him  form  his  own  judgment.  He  will 
make  mistakes  ;  but  that  is  to  be  expected.  If  a  child  is  going  to  be 
self-governing  he  must  be  allowed  to  govern  himself. 

There  is  also  an  inflammation  which  comes  on  in  the  form  of  envy- 
ings  and  jealousies  in  life.  These  are  fevers.  They  seldom  come  sud- 
denly. They  seldom  come  without  a  certain  incipiency  which  men  can 
discern  when  once  they  have  set  in.  Ai*e  there  not  witnesses  here 
who  can  bear  testimony,  "  I  cannot  resist  this  kind  of  temptation,  or 
that  kind  of  temptation  ?"  Are  there  not  persons  here  who  say,  "  I 
cannot  help  being  jealous  ?"  Some  people  there  are,  who  fall  back  on 
their  nature,  and  excuse  their  jealousy  by  saying,  "I  am  made  so." 
There  are  others  who  are  envious,  and  who  excuse  themselves  on  the 
same  plea.  He  is  a  very  bold  man  who  can  say  that  he  has  not  a  par- 
ticle of  envy  in  him.  He  is  a  rare  man  who,  being  looked  at  all 
round,  is  found  not  to  be  susceptible  to  envy,  or  a  sense  of  pain  on  ac- 
count of  some  other  person's  superior  fortune,  position  or  circumstances. 
It  IS  a  devilish  experience,  and  none  the  less  so  because  it  is  common. 

These  feelings  are  to  be  treated  as  we  treat  inflammations.  They 
are  not  shocks.  They  do  not  come  and  go  with  a  blow  and  an  ex- 
plosion. They  are  not  like  powder  whose  whole  mischief  is  done  in 
an  instant,  or  not  at  all.    They  are  fii'es  which  bura    And  the  general 


392  FIEBT  DARTS, 

remedy  for  them  is,  being  lifted  above  their  realm.  K  a  man  who  is 
attacked  by  them  still  continues  to  live  down  in  the  material  region 
where  they  are,  he  will  continue  to  suffer  from  them.  Not  until  he 
goes  to  a  greater  height  where  they  are  feebler,  and  takes  "  the  shield 
of  faith,"  can  he  get  rid  of  them.  The  only  remedy  for  them  is  to 
live  in  the  higher  nature,  and  in  commerce  with  God  and  heaven, 
setting  his  affections  on  things  above,  and  taking  a  nobler  conception 
of  the  value  of  that  from  which  envy  springs. 

The  point  that  I  wish  you  to  notice,  is,  that  these  are  lingering  in- 
flammations in  the  minds  of  men,  and  that  they  are  not  to  be  cured  by 
resolutions,  but  by  what  is  called  constitutional  treatment;  by  going 
into  a  higher  range  of  faculties,  and  living  in  them. 

The  inflammation  of  love  is  one  of  the  most  noble,  one  of  the 
most  universal,  and,  strangely,  one  of  the  most  ridiculous,  of  these 
inflammations.  It  seems  to  me  very  singular  that  the  world  should 
select  the  very  highest  and  divinest  of  all  men's  faculties  as  the  one  on 
which  to  explode  its  jests  and  its  merriment.  It  is  not  the  less  sin- 
gular because  I  myself  feel  an  irresistible  temptation  to  do  it.  I  hardly 
think  anybody  ever  saw  young  love  born,  that  he  did  not  at  once  ex- 
perience a  sense  of  the  ludicrous.  Love  is  the  most  beautiful  thing  in 
the  world.  There  is  not  a  flower  that  blooms  in  the  garden  of  the  soul 
that  is  so  beautiful  as  the  budding  of  love.  There  is  no  commerce  this 
side  of  the  gate  of  heaven  that  is  comparable  to  it.  There  is  no  joy 
like  that  which  the  tree  of  love  bears  upon  its  bough,  whose  leaves  are 
for  the  healing  of  the  nations.  I  not  only  would  not  discourage  true 
love,  romantic  love,  strong  love,  all-engrossing  love,  but  I  think  that 
without  it  there  is  no  true  manhood,  and  no  true  womanhood.  Yet,  it 
is  that  which  makes  you  smile,  and  makes  me  smile,  and  makes  every- 
one smile,  when  we  see  it  sjiring  out  fresh.  The  only  time  when  you 
do  not  smile  at  it,  is  when  you  feel  it  yourself.  It  is  a  reality  to  the 
actors.  To  everybody  else,  the  world  over,  there  is  an  element  of 
beauty,  and  also  an  element  of  the  ludicrous,  in  it.  And  in  dealing 
with  those  who  are  under  our  care — guardians  with  their  wards, 
teachers  with  their  pupils,  parents  with  their  children,  and  pastors  with 
their  people — this  is  to  be  taken  into  consideration,  that  the  outbreak- 
ing of  affection  is  an  inflammation  which  is  in  part  made  up  of  the 
higher  and  more  perfect  elements  of  the  mind.  And  love  is  good  in 
proportion  as  it  includes  in  itself  the  action  of  every  single  faculty  of 
your  mind.  It  must  be  comprehensive  and  voluminous  in  order  to  be 
divine.  Where  it  has  mingled  with  it  the  lower  elements  of  the  soul, 
it  is  almost  invariably  of  a  lingeiing  and  inflammatory  character.  You 
cannot  stop  it  by  saying,  "  You  shall  stop."  You  cannot  stop  it  by 
commands  of  any  sort.     Neither  can  you  stop  it  by  good  advice.    You 


FIERT  DARTS.  393 

can  only  stop  it  by  some  alterative ;  and  the  upper  part  of  a  man's  mind 
is  the  natural  alterative  of  the  lower  part.  If  you  can  in  any  way  de- 
velop the  reason,  and  the  moral  sense,  and  the  taste,  and  higher 
relishes  that  shall  be  stronger  than  this  lower  development  of 
passion,  you  can  overrule  it  or  change  it;  but  never  by  saying 
that  it  is  your  duty  to  change  it.  Effects  do  not  take  place  without 
causes.  You  might  as  well  think  of  drawing  out  the  inflammation 
from  a  diseased  part  without  resorting  to  any  procuring  causes — to 
blisters,  to  rubefacients,  to  some  kind  of  active  treatment ;  you 
might  as  well  command  the  inflammation  to  leave  the  rheumatic  limb, 
expecting  it  to  obey,  as  to  think  of  removing  this  inflammation  of  the 
mind  without  building  up  the  child,  or  the  grown  person,  on  the  side 
of  the  nobler  feelings. 

I  believe  that  there  is  a  kind  of  incipient  insanity  in  temptation  to 
cruelty.  Men  tell  us  that  after  they  had  once  made  up  their  mind 
to  rob  a  house  they  tried  to  resist  it,  they  tried  to  throw  it  off,  they 
tried  to  get  rid  of  it  by  turning  to  work  or  amusement ;  but  that  it 
followed  them  in  spite  of  all  their  endeavors.  Men  say  that  from  the 
moment  they  had  made  up  their  mind  to  murder  a  man  for  his  money, 
the  devil  seemed  to  urge  them  on,  and  never  left  them  for  an  instant, 
but  rode  them  day  and  night ,  and  that  they  saw  blood  all  the  time. 
I  do  not  doubt  that  they  described  experiences  truly.  These  strong 
biases  of  the  lower  appetites  and  passions  are  strong  and  positive 
inflammations.  I  believe  that  the  causes  of  them,  and  the  elements 
Avhich  they  involve,  are  physical,  as  well  as  social  and  moral,  and  that 
when  they  attack  the  mind  they  take  hold  of  it  strongly,  and  are  slow 
to  let  go. 

Let  it  be  understood,  then,  by  all  parents,  or  teachers,  or  rectors, 
or  guardians,  or  guides  of  men,  that  there  is  a  principle  of  slow  com- 
bustion— or,  if  I  might  change  the  figure,  a  principle  of  fermentation 
— ^going  on  in  the  minds  of  those  under  theu'  care,  and  that  if  you 
can  keep  them  from  dwelling  in  their  thoughts  upon  things  that  are 
abnormal  and  unhealthful,  by  keeping  them  interested  in  things  that 
are  normal  and  healthful,  you  will  see  them  gradually  come  into  a  state 
of  mind  in  which  they  will  not  be  harassed  and  injured  by  wrong  de- 
sires. The  way  to  prevent  those  evils  which  proceed  from  the  inor- 
dinate action  of  the  lower  nature,  is  to  have  such  a  disciplined  use  of 
the  higher  reason,  the  better  affections,  and  the  nobler  sentiments,  that 
they  can  be  kept  in  the  ascendancy.  There  is  no  temptation  where 
the  upper  part  of  the  mind  has  supreme  control. 

I  am  never  tempted  to  steal.  I  think  you  might  leave  your  watch 
or  your  pocket-book  in  my  house  and  not  miss  it  a  gi-eat  while.  I 
think  it  would  be  safe  in  my  hands.     And  after  I  had  restored  it  to 


394  FIEBY  DARTS. 

you,  I  should  not  flatter  myself  that  I  had  given  proof  of  eminent 
honesty,  and  should  not  make  an  entry  in  my  journal — (if  I  kept  one, 
which  I  don't :  I  consider  a  journal  the  fool's  mii-ror) — ^I  should  not 
write  there  that  Deacon  A.  called  upon  me,  and,  in  absent-mindedness 
took  out  his  wallet  to  give  me  some  money  for  charitable  purposes,  or 
in  absent-mindedness  left  it  (you  can  take  it  either  way),  and  that  after 
pondering  for  some  time  the  question  as  to  what  it  was  my  duty  to  do, 
I  finally  said  to  myself,  "  You  are  a  Christian,  and  must  not  steal,"  and 
took  the  wallet,  and  ran  as  hard  as  I  could,  and  gave  it  to  him.  I 
should  not  describe  my  action  that  way.  And  yet,  that  might  describe 
the  action  of  a  man  who  was  living  in  the  lower  faculties,  and  was 
tempted  to  steal.  You  and  I  have  been  so  effectually  trained  the  other 
way  that  we  never  think  of  stealing,  and  never  could  be  induced  to  do 
it,  and  never  give  ourselves  any  credit  for  not  doing  it.  I  know  my 
thoughts  dwell  in  such  a  realm,  that  it  is  not  possible  for  them  to  be 
reached  by  these  lower  influences.  How  it  might  be  if  I  were  an  officer 
of  the  Sub-Treasury  or  a  director  of  a  raih-oad,  I  do  not  know.  I  can- 
not tell  what  I  might  come  to  by  drill.  But  as  it  is,  there  is  not  the 
remotest  possibility  of  it. 

Now,  in  regard  to  all  these  lower  developments,  in  regard  to  all 
these  evil  tendencies  which  you  meet  with  in  the  family,  in  the  school, 
in  the  shop,  of  which  life  is  full,  and  by  which  parents  are  troubled 
and  school-masters  and  school-mistresses  are  vexed,  and  people  gene- 
rally are  annoyed — in  regard  to  them  all,  remember  that  while  there 
may  be  specific  treatment  (which  I  cannot  pause  to  dilate  upon),  the 
general  treatment  is  this:  Take  "the  shield  of  faith."  Learn  so 
to  live  in  the  higher  realm  of  reason,  and  moral  sentiment,  and  honor, 
and  duty,  and  purity,  and  love,  and  justice,  and  fidelity,  and  courage, 
and  cheer,  and  wholesomeness  of  soul,  that  when  these  temptations 
are  sent  by  the  devil's  bow,  they  will  fall  quenched  from  "  the  shield 
of  fiiith,"     And  teach  this  life  to  those  in  your  care. 

This  Faith  is  the  all-extinguishing  element  by  which  we  control  our 
lower  nature.  It  is  God's  provision  for  man.  It  is  the  balance  which 
he  has  given  to  the  soul.  It  was  meant  to  prevent  men  from  dwell- 
ing too  exclusively  in  the  realm  of  the  physical  and  material,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  the  sphere  of  the  spuitual  and  invisible. 

Men  say  of  the  higher  sentiments,  "  Oh !  of  course  these  things 
are  very  good  ;  men  ought  to  have  the  higher  sentiments  ;  but  when 
one  is  among  Romans  he  must  do  as  Romans  do."  And  so  they  ac- 
custom themselves,  and  encourage  each  other,  in  the  market,  on  the 
street,  and  in  places  of  pleasure,  to  act  by  the  lower  instincts  and  fac- 
ulties, instead  of  the  higher  elements  of  the  soul,  which,  when  quick- 
ened by  the  divine  Spirit,  enable  us  to  see  God ;  which,  when  touched 


FIERT  DART8.  895 

by  tho  Holy  Gliost,  leap  up  and  mingle  then*  forces  with  those  of  the 
intelligences  above.  Those  sentiments  are  like  angelic  experiences. 
They  bring  the  choral  voices  of  heaven  into  the  soul,  and  make  men 
live  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible.  So  lived  Moses,  the  old  prophet 
and  law-giver  of  the  desert,  whose  name  is  honored  among  Jews  and 
Christians  alike — not  by  commerce  with  things  which  can  be  discerned 
by  the  senses,  or  explained  by  science,  but  by  the  intuitions  of  the 
spu-itual  life,  which  are  able  to  quench  all  the  temptations  which  come 
from  the  lower,  basilar,  fiery,  flaming  nature  of  man. 

God  grant  that  we  may  so  live  that  at  last,  when  the  call  comes 
for  us  to  go  hence,  our  passage  from  this  life  to  the  other  shall  be  but 
a  step  fi'om  glory  to  glory. 

/ 


396  FIERY  DARTS. 

PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON". 

We  thank  thee,  our  Father,  that  thou  hast  taught  us  our  way  out  from 
this  lower  life,  beyond  the  senses ;  beyond  the  sentient ;  beyond  reason  even, 
to  where  faith  guides;  so  that  we  stand  in  the  invisible,  and  behold  things 
that  are  not ;  so  that  we  know  things  which  lie  beyond  the  sight,  and  live 
in  things  that  are  unknown  in  life.  We  thank  thee  for  the  sacred  mystery 
of  truth,  and  for  those  experiences  which  we  know  to  be  real,  but  which  the 
eye  cannot  see,  nor  the  hand  handle,  nor  the  tongue  utter.  That  wondrous 
work  which  thou  dost  perform  in  the  soul  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  we  discern, 
we  experience,  we  rejoice  in,  at  times,  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory. 
And  we  pray  that  if  we  are  thy  children,  we  may  not  seem  to  be  always 
strangers.  If  we  are  the  King's  children,  sometimes  may  we  know  how  to 
bear  the  part  of  princes.  Grant  that  we  may  walk  with  faces  upward  ;  that 
we  may  take  thereon  the  light  wh;.ch  shines  out  from  our  heavenly  abode, 
and  our  home.  And  when  our  hearts  are  heavy,  and  we  know  not  what  ails 
them  ;  when  we  have  grasped  and  taken  in  what  the  earth  can  give,  and  all 
that  is  but  food  to  suggestion,  and  that  raises  our  ideal  of  joy,  and  of  love, 
and  of  power  therein,  higher  and  higher,  till  we  look  away  from  this  life, 
and  hope  for  the  fulfillment  of  that  of  which  the  shadow  only  is  given  here, 
then  we  rejoice,  O  Lord !  that  thou  dost  bring  thyself  near,  and  bring  us 
into  reciprocal  nearness,  so  that  we  may  know  thee  as  we  are  known  of  thee ; 
so  that  though  we  do  not  see  as  we  are  seen,  nor  know  as  we  are  known, 
wholly,  yet  we  are  in  the  precincts  of  fulfillment,  and  are  surrounded  by 
great  joy,  and  filled  with  great  peace.  And  the  memory  of  these  days  of 
transfiguration — how  as  a  rudder  it  guides  us  in  the  perplexity  of  after  times ! 
And,  though  we  travel  forlorn,  in  desolate  ways,  in  winter,  and  in  the 
midst  of  chilling  winds,  we  cheer  ourselves  by  the  memory  of  a  thousand 
comforts  lost  or  parted  from ;  by  the  memory  of  days  and  of  experiences 
that  were,  we  comfort  ourselves  in  drooping  days,  and  days  of  darkness, 
when  things  are  gone  that  were  present  to  the  sight,  and  experiences  are 
dissolved,  like  the  bubbles  that  are  blown  in  summer,  and  like  the  bright 
pictures  that  were  spanned  upon  them.  And  we  believe  that  nothing  comes 
without  a  cause ;  that  there  is  no  suggestion  of  a  higher  life,  and  no  realiza- 
tion of  anything  above  our  senses,  which  is  not  inspired  by  the  heart  of  God 
in  the  soul. 

We  thank  thee  for  all  these  working  things.  And  though  sometimes, 
doubting  and  complaining,  we  wonder  why,  since  thou  art  God,  and  we  are 
so  needy,  thou  dost  not  do  more,  and  work  us  habitually  into  a  spiritual 
frame  of  mind ;  yet  at  times,  when  we  realize  what  we  are,  we  marvel  that 
thou  dost  work  so  much,  and  that  we  have  no  perception  of  those  things 
which  are  so  far  above  the  flesh,  and  which  require  sensibilities  so  differ- 
ent.    We  admire  and  wonder,  and  praise  thy  name  for  our  experience. 

And  now,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  accept  the  desire  (for  what 
else  can  we  offer  ?)  which  we  have  to  be  better,  and  purer,  and  truer,  and  to 
be  lifted  above  the  things  which  are  passing.  Accept  our  desire  for  a  truer 
sentiment  of  things  just,  and  generous,  and  pure,  and  holy.  Accept  the  de- 
sire which  we  have  to  live  near  to  God,  and  that  without  separating  our- 
selves from  men — nay,  cleaving  all  the  more  to  them  by  this  divine  power. 
Accept  our  desire  to  be  cleansed  utterly.  Thou,  O  living  Saviour !  must 
cleanse  us.  It  is  the  power  of  love  only  that  can  save  us.  And  by  love  we 
shall  be  saved.  Thy  word  is  pledged.  Thou  wilt  receive  every  one  that 
■comes  to  thee.  None  shall  come  in  vain.  And  coming,  none  shall  be  cast 
out.  For,  although  the  largest  entertainment  may  still  be  straitened  among 
men,  and  the  house  be  so  full  that  even  love  can  give  no  more  room,  there  are 
many  mansions  in  our  Father's  house — too  many  for  the  world  ever  to  fill ;  and 
none  shall  be  excluded  or  turned  away.  There  is  room  for  all.  And,  Lord,  thou 
hast  no  conditious  but  that  they  need,  and  that  they  will  accept. 


FIERY  DARTS.  397 

Blessed  be  thy  name  for  this  fullness  and  freeness  of  invitation.  Blessed 
be  thy  name  for  this  largeness  of  mercy,  which,  beginning  here  in  time,  runs 
on  down  throvigh  ages  uncountable,  forever  more  fruitful,  the  fruit  being 
more  and  more  blessed.  "We  rejoice  in  all  these  things.  And  yet,  while  we 
think  of  them,  and  compass  them  with  great  feeling  thoughts,  our  imagina- 
tion, overlapping  them,  still  goes  further,  until  the  inconceivable  rises  as  the 
cloud  in  the  far  distance,  infinite  still  in  the  midst  of  all  this  expectation. 

Thou  art  the  God  that  dost  exceeding  abundantly  more  than  we  can  ask 
or  think.  How  great  will  be  the  triumph  of  thy  grace,  and  the  marvelous 
celebration  of  thy  mercy  to  us,  when  we  shall  meet  in  Zion  and  before  God  ! 
May  none  of  us  fail  by  the  way,  by  quick  flying  temptations.  May  none  of 
us  be  struck  down  unprepared.  May  none  of  us  go  steadily  astray.  May 
we  cleave  to  the  Lover  of  our  souls.  May  we  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  and  be 
strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  Lord  stand  continually,  and  having  done  all, 
and  overcome  all,  stand  faithful  and  steadfast  unto  the  end. 

Bless  those  who  are  gathered  together  this  morning.  Comfort  those  who 
are  drinking  the  bitter  cup  of  affliction.  And  may  they  remember  that  the 
Lord  drank  before  them,  and,  touching  his  lip  to  the  cup,  made  it  sacred; 
and  as  he  would  not  put  it  from  him,  may  none  of  them  put  it  from  thenv 
until  his  will  shall  be  done. 

And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  give  comfort  and  strength,  in  thine  own  time 
and  way,  to  those  who  are  weak  ;  and  direction  to  those  who  are  in  perplex- 
ity; and  consolation  to  those  who  are  disconsolate;  and  help  to  those  that 
are  in  care  and  trouble  in  this  world,  that  they  may  bear  manfully  their 
share  of  the  world's  burden,  and  do  their  duty  wherever  the  Lord  has  ap- 
pointed their  way,  more  anxious  to  please  thee  in  the  place  where  they  are, 
than  to  change  it  and  find  some  fairer  sphere. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  bless  all  the  churches  that  are  gathered  together 
to-day.  May  thy  servants  preach  the  Gospel  in  simplicity  and  power  from 
on  high.  And  may  thy  people  worship  thee  acceptably,  and  with  great  joy 
to  their  souls.  We  pray  for  the  spread  of  the  truth.  We  pray  that  through- 
out our  land  justice  and  righteousness,  and  purity  may  prevail.  May  we  be 
saved  from  avarice,  and  greediness  therein ;  and  from  pride  of  power.  May 
we  be  saved  from  irreligion,  and  from  outbreaking  vices  and  crimes. 

And  we  pray  that  thou  wilt  sanctfy  the  power  and  strength  of  this  na- 
tion, and  make  it  not  selfish,  nor  grasping,  nor  cruel,  but  full  of  manhood, 
and  full  of  protection  to  the  weak,  and  full  of  blessings  to  all. 

Pity  the  nations  of  the  earth.  Behold  how  they  are  driven,  as  in  the 
night,  upon  the  ocean,  fierce  winds  drive  fierce  waves.  Behold  how  the 
nations  lift  themselves  up,  and  toss  themselves  in  their  fury  before  thee.  O 
Lord  !  hast  thou  power  to  control  the  fury  of  the  people  ?  Hold  back  the 
guilty  arms  of  the  oppressors,  and  purge  the  minds  of  the  nations  from  their 
guilty  insanities.  We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  stop  the  preva- 
lence of  war.  And  grant  that  these  great  evils  which  have  made  it  needful, 
and  which  still  require  this  medicine  of  God — the  overflowing  cup  of  fire 
itself, — may  be  purged  away,  and  that  justice  and  humanity  may  take  the 
place  of  avarice  and  ambition.  We  pray  that  the  time  may  speedily  come 
when  nations  shall  be  permitted  to  be  at  peace,  and  when  all  shall  know 
their  true  manhood  in  Christ  Jesus,  when  men  shall  be  self-governed,  and 
shall  no  longer  need  the  iron  scepter.  And  grant  that  the  nations  of  the 
earth,  thus  rising  into  their  true  stature  before  God,  may  inherit  this  prom- 
ise, long  made,  long  delayed,  long  lingering  and  still  to  linger.  Lord  Jesus  ! 
make  haste,  for  the  whole  earth  doth  wait  for  thee,  and  groans  yet,  and 
travails  in  pain.  We  beseech  of  thee,  overturn  and  overturn,  until  lie 
•whose  right  it  is  shall  come  and  reign. 

And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father,  Son  and  Spirit.     Amen. 


398  FIEBT  DARTS. 

PRAYER  AFTER  THE   SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  pray  for  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  the  word  spoken. 
Teach  us  all  how  to  teach  others.  May  our  life  itself  be  a  teaching.  Grant 
that  we  may  so  live  as  to  be  full  of  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit ;  that  we  may 
overflow  in  joy  and  peace ;  that  we  may  have  enough  for  ourselves  and  for 
others ;  that  our  hearts  may  be  fountains  at  which  the  weary  may  drink. 
And  grant  that  we  may  be  more  and  more  ri:*h-hearted :  that  we  may  be 
saved  from  all  those  evolutions  and  oscillations,  and  incidental  sins  which 
come  while  striving  to  enlarge  our  nature  God-ward.  Yet  grant  that 
our  faults,  if  we  needs  must  carry  them,  as  the  weeds  and  tokens  of  the 
earthly  state,  may  be  faults  on  our  heavenward  side.  And  so  may  we  live, 
never  unconcious  of  our  need  of  Christ;  never  unconcious  that  we  are  saved, 
not  by  right  or  merit  of  our  own.  So  may  we  live  that  when  we  shall  be- 
hold Jesus,  we  shall  see  in  him  all  our  victory,  and  recognize,  in  that  glori- 
ous vision  and  moment,  that  power  of  thought  and  ideal  by  which  we  have 
been  incited  and  carried  on  through  life.  And  when  we  behold  thee  as  thou 
art,  and  the  mystery  of  our  life  is  explained  in  thy  look  and  in  thy  words, 
at  thy  feet,  O  Jesus !  we  will  cast  our  crowns,  saying.  Not  unto  us,  but  unto 
thy  dear  name,  be  the  praise  of  our  salvation  forever  and  forever.    Amen, 


XXIII. 

Testimony  Against  Evil, 


TESTIMOIY  AGAINST  EVIL 


*' Abl  or  that  which  is  evil ;  cleave  to  that  which  is  good." — Rom.  XII.,  9. 


There  is  a  coordination  here.  We  are  neither  to  be  satisfied  with 
hating  evil,  nor  with  loving  that  which  is  good.  We  are  to  do  both. 
They  stand  in  this  intimate  relation  with  each  other,  and  are  tests  each 
of  the  other's  genuineness,  in  that  each  begets  the  other.  If  a  man 
hates  evil,  and  it  is  a  genuine  moral  revulsion,  it  will  show  itself  to  be 
genuine,  among  other  w'ays,  by  this,  that  it  will  be  accompanied  by, 
or  will  have  as  its  alternative,  a  strong  attraction  toward  that  which  is 
good.  On  the  other  hand,  if  a  man  supposes  that  he  loves  that  which 
is  good,  and  springs  to  it  with  appetite  and  desire,  he  may  test  the 
reality  and  genuineness  of  that  loving  by  the  corresponding  emotion 
— the  abhorrence  of  its  oj^posite. 

It  seems  impossible  that  the  soul  should  not  act  in  this  way.  K  it 
love  concord,  it  must  revolt  at  discord.  So  that  these  two  phases  are 
counteiiDarts.  One  is  the  fulfillment  of  the  other.  A  man  who  loves 
the  truth  must  hate  lies.  A  man  who  is  sensitive  to  honor,  must  have 
gi'eat  revulsion  from  everything  that  is  dishonorable.  A  man  that 
really  loves  purity,  must  really  abhor  impurity.  If  a  man's  heart  goes 
out  toward  fidelity,  he  must  have  a  great  hatred  of  treachery.  It 
seems  impossible  that  the  mind  should  act  in  any  other  way. 

This  is  very  strong  language.  Abhoi — there  is  no  stronger  word 
than  that  in  our  tongue ;  and  it  does  not  strain  the  original  at  all.  It 
is  justified.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  cleave  is  an  equally  strong  word. 
As  a  mother  puts  her  arras  around  about  the  child  in  the  moment  of 
love,  in  the  gush  of  affection,  and  holds  it  fast,  so  that  nothing  can  get 
it  away,  and  her  clasp  is  a  clasp  of  retention,  so  when  we  are  com- 
manded to  "  cleave  to  that  which  is  good,"  it  is  as  if  it  were  said, 
"  Love  that  which  is  good ;  hold  it  fast  in  your  arms ;  do  not  let  it 
be  taken  away  from  you."  Both  of  these  are  pretty  strong  expres- 
sions, because  the  things  that  they  mean  are  pretty  strong,  too :  for 
intensiveness  is  the  typical  idea  of  Christian  experience.  Because 
there  are  in  the  New  Testament  such  words  as  mildness,  and  gentler- 

St'vd AY  Evening,  July  24,  1870.    Lbsson:    Pba.  L     Hnras  (Flymoath  CoUeotion)  Nos. 
1295,  500,  907. 


400  TESTIMONY  AGAINST  EVIL. 

ness,  and  meehiess,  a  great  many  persons  think  that  Christian  charac- 
ter means  a  sort  of  pale,  pulseless  state  of  mind — a  transparent  nothing- 
ness— a  bland  emotion — a  state  that  is  like  glass,  which  has  no 
particular  quality  of  its  own — something  that  you  can  look  through. 
But  no ;  the  typical  idea  of  Christian  experience  is  that  of  depth  of 
power,  preeminently.  We  are  to  love  the  Lord  our  God  with  all  our 
heart,  and  mind,,  and  soul,  and  strength,  and  our  neighbor, — not  with  a 
little  gentle  well-wishing,  not  with  a  little  superfluous  generosity  after 
we  have  taken  care  of  ourselves, — but  as  ourselves.  It  is  a  Lordly  con- 
ception that  comes  into  the  idea  of  duty  in  the  Christian  life — some- 
thing of  largeness,  and  of  power ;  so  that  when  we  love  that  which 
is  good,  we  love  it  with  vigor ;  and  when  we  hate  that  which  is  evil, 
we  hate  it  with  thunder  and  lightning ! 

To  be  sure,  we  make  allowance  for  men  who  cannot  rise  up  to  that; 
but  we  do  not  take  them  for  our  models.  A  man  may  be  a  Christian 
without  any  gi-eat  power  of  hating ;  without  any  great  power  of  lov- 
ing ;  without  any  great  power  in  his  being,  at  any  rate.  But  he  is  a 
babe  ;  he  is  a  child ;  and  that  is  not  the  typical  idea.  We  take  the 
Bible  notion  of  Christians.  It  is  a  thing  of  proportion.  As  we  have 
power  of  excitability,  and  power  of  intense  emotions,  one  way  or  an- 
other ;  as  we  have  fervidness,  or  the  power  of  burning,  in  our  feel- 
ings, we  are  thereby  brought  into  line  with  the  typical  Christian.  So 
that  we  are  to  have  the  most  vigorous  likes  and  dislikes.  Likes  are 
not  strong  enough.  We  are  to  have  the  most  vigorous  loves  and 
hatreds  for  things  moral  or  immoral,  as  the  case  may  be. 

We  are  not,  though,  to  suppose  that  this  exhortation  gives  us  the 
liberty  to  hate  evil  men.  We  are  to  hate  evil.  We  are  to  abhor  it. 
We  read  in  the  Scriptures,  Ye  that  love  the  Lord  hate  evil ;  but  no- 
where, from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  Bible  is  there  an  exhorta- 
tion to  hate  wicked  men.  On  the  other  hand,  God,  that  is  of  purer 
eyes  than  to  hehold  iniquity ;  whose  fury  against  wickedness  hums 
to  the  lowest  hell,  so  far  from  hating  men,  loves  them  Avith  an  unutter- 
able love — loves  them  with  a  love  which  could  have  been  signified  by 
nothing  less  than  the  death  of  Christ — the  most  stupendous  exhibition 
of  sacrifice  and  witness  of  affection  that  could  be  raised  up  in  the  cir- 
cle of  human  experience  and  knowledge.  And  we  are  not  to  suppose, 
because  we  are  commanded  to  abhor  evil,  that  therefore  we  have  a 
right  to  curse  and  swear  at  all  wicked  men,  and  hurl  our  denunciations 
at  them.  Far  from  it.  Hate  evil ;  but  it  is  quite  possible  for  a  man 
at  the  same  time  to  be  full  of  sympathy  and  yearning  toward  men 
who  are  committing  evil.  There  are  none  who  know  how  to  hate  evil 
so  much  as  those  who  love  good.  The  largest  love  takes  everything 
unto  itself;  it  has  pride  in  the  object  loved,  and  is  made  happy  by 


TESTIMONT  AGAINST  EVIL.  401 

seeing  the  object  of  love  beautiful,  noble,  excellent ;  and  it  is  wounded 
by  seeing  the  opposite  qualities.  There  is  nothing  so  sensitive  to 
blemish,  to  disfigurement,  to  unsymmetry,  as  the  truest  love.  A  mother 
who  loves  the  child  may  mask  his  faults,  and  may  soften  them,  from 
the  very  pain  that  the  recognition  of  them  gives  ;  but  when  she  does 
discern  a  sin,  a  wasting  and  withering  wickedness  in  the  child,  ther 
is  no  one  who  abhors  that  evil  so  much  as  she.  A  mother's  abhorrent 
of  evil  in  her  child  is  in  the  proportion  of  her  love  for  that  child. 

Do  you  suppose  there  is  any  human  being  who  hates  drunkennr 
as  much  as  the  wife  does,  who  cannot  give  up  the  husband  of  her 
youth.  All  her  being  is  centered  in  him.  All  her  early  hope,  all  her 
love,  went  out  unto  him.  She  holds  him  with  cords  that  neither  life 
nor  death  can  break.  And  yet,  he  is  a  drunkard.  And  if  there  is 
anything  in  this  world  that  typifies  hell,  it  is  a  pure  and  noble  woman 
sleeping  in  the  arms  of  a  drunken  husband.  Is  there  anyone  who  does 
BO  abhor  the  passion  and  the  evil  as  she  who  would  lay  her  life  down, 
if  she  could  redeem  him  from  it  ? 

We  are  not,  therefore,  to  suppose  that  because  we  are  commanded 
to  abhor  evil,  we  are  commanded  to  hate  bad  men,  or  to  abhor  them. 

Men  should  have  a  clear  and  positive  revulsion  from  evil  for  theii" 
own  protection.  It  is  not  safe,  considering  what  the  nature  of  evil  is, 
how  it  is  graded,  how  it  springs  out  of  things  that  are  not  evil,  or 
how  it  becomes  so  by  circumstances,  to  look  upon  it  with  allowance. 
The  power  that  evil  has  of  masking  itself,  the  power  that  it  has  of 
becoming  beautiful,  renders  it  the  more  dangerous.  The  foct  that 
much  in  this  life  is  an  amalgam,  made  up  of  gold  and  base  metal 
together ;  that  good  and  evil  are  twined  and  plied  together  so  that  we 
are  constantly  in  danger  of  taking  the  one  for  the  sake  of  the  other — 
these  things  require  that  a  man  who  means  to  live  a  truly  manly 
Christian  life — a  life  of  manhood  in  Christ  Jesus  being  the  higliest 
type  or  conception  of  manhood — must  train  himself  to  abhor  what  is 
evil,  or  he  will,  in  the  adulterations  of  things,  find  himself  drawn  in- 
sensibly along,  little  by  little,  little  by  little.  Plausible  lies,  and 
oblique  deceits,  and  reflected  dishonesties,  and  semi-transparent  wick- 
ednesses— the  thousand  gradations  on  the  scale — will  lead  him  step  by 
step,  so  that,  if  he  have  not  a  sovereign  revulsion  from  wickedness,  be- 
fore he  is  aware  he  will  have  become  an  apologist  for  it,  if  not  a  par- 
taker of  it. 

Such  is  the  nature  of  the  stomach  that  whatever  things  are  revolt- 
ing to  it,  it  rejects.  It  throws  them  off  spontaneously,  and  so  saves 
itself.  Yet  it  is  quite  possible  for  one,  by  minute  tastes,  to  accustom 
•  himself  to  take  arsenic,  taitar-emetic,  things  the  most  destructive  to 
the  animal  tissue  and  to  all  the  functions  of  the  prime  organs ;  it  is 


402  TESTIMONY  AGAINST  EVIL. 

quite  possible  for  one,  little  by  little,  to  keep  on  in  such  a  course  until 
he  has  medicated  himself  into  a  certain  tolerance  of  things  that  are 
fundamentally  injurious  to  his  health  and  to  his  life.  And  as  it  is  in 
physical  things,  so  is  it  in  moral.  One  may,  by  gradations  of  Avicked- 
ness,  by  not  looking  at  it  with  horror  in  its  initial  forms,  in  its  slightest 
developments,  as  it  were  tone  down  his  conscience,  and  bring  it  more 
and  more  to  the  level  of  wickedness,  until  it  shall  lose  its  sensibility 
and  its  power  of  discerning. 

A  great  many  men  are  wicked  because  they  have  not  the  sensibility 
that  interprets  to  them  what  is  the  better ;  and  a  great  many  men  are 
untrue  and  false  because  they  have  a  blunt  conscience,  that  does  not 
discern  that  which  is  bad. 

That  power  by  which  we  quickly  scent  wickedness  ;  by  which  we 
reject  it,  and  lift  ourselves  above  all  its  entanglements,  and  its  fine 
threads,  is  this  hating  it — this  abhorrence  of  it. 

A  good  practical  musician  may  stand  in  the  midst  of  five  hundred 
singers,  and  if  there  is  one  false  voice  in  the  whole  five  hundred,  his 
ear  hates  discord  so  that  he  knows  it.  There  may  not  be  anyone  else 
in  the  house  who  knows  that  there  is  a  single  voice  below  the  pitch, 
or  above  the  pitch,  and  he,  perhaps,  cannot  tell  where  the  trouble  is, 
or  just  what  it  is  ;  but  he  feels  it. 

It  might  be  so  with  a  man's  conscience.  He  ought,  as  it  were,  to 
feel  a  discord  in  the  chorus,  a  lowering  of  the  tone,  somewhere,  which 
shall  indicate  at  once  that  there  is  something  wrong,  even  when  it  re- 
quires thought  and  analysis  to  detect  Avhat  the  wrong  is.  This  refine- 
ment ought  a  Christian  to  reach  for  his  own  sake.  Still  more  ought 
he  to  do  it  for  the  sake  of  the  witness  which  every  one  owes  to  good- 
ness, and  against  evil.  For,  we  are  "  the  light  of  the  world  "  in  propor- 
tion as  we  are  enlightened  by  Christ.  Good  men  are  "  the  salt  of  the 
earth."  Society  defends  itself  by  its  hating  power ;  and  society  is  to 
be  taught  how  discreetly  to  hate  evil  by  the  witness  and  testimony  of 
Christian  men. 

There  is  a  public  sentiment  in  ordinary  communities  which  sends 
crimes  and  vices  into  the  shadow,  so  that  wickedness  of  certain  grades 
has  to  skulk.  It  is  a  sorrowful  thing  when  crimes  become  tolerable, 
and  when  vices  become  respectable.  The  average  conscience  of  any 
community  must  be  deteriorated  very  much  before  men  who  are  noto- 
rious for  their  various  wickednesses  can  walk  in  the  high  places,  and 
can  be  regarded  as  "  hail  fellows  well  met,"  and  be  permitted  to  hold 
the  piineipal  ofiices  of  trust  and  profit,  and  be  honored  and  smiled 
upon,  and  everywhere  greeted  and  recognized.  A  scoundrel,  if  he  be 
clothed  with  king's  robes,  ought  to  be  treated  by  every  good  man  as  if 
lie  were  a  scoundrel,  so  far  as  that  is  his  typical  chai'acter,  and  so  far 


TESTIMONY  AGAINST  EVIL.  403 

as  he  puts  that  character  out.  You  may  pity  him  ;  you  may  labor  for 
Lis  reclamation ;  but  if  he  is  placed  in  such  circumstances  that  he  is 
represented  by  wicked  conduct  or  by  wicked  actions,  somewhere  there 
must  be  a  testimony  of  such  horror  and  hatred  of  his  wickedness  that 
he  shall  be  made  to  feel  how  hateful  wickedness  is.  And  the  public 
sentiment  of  society  ought  to  be  made  to  feel  how  hateful  wickedness 
is.  If  there  is  no  reprobation  of  counterfeiting ;  if  honest  men,  who 
never  would  counterfeit,  still  are  charitable  to  take  counterfeit  money  ;  if 
though  they  think  it  bad,  and  say  that  they  would  not  take  it  if  they 
could  very  well  help  it,  they  yet,  when  they  have  it  in  their  hands  will 
pass  it  along — then  it  will  be  sure  to  thrive.  If  men  wiio  are  known 
to  be  genial,  good  fellows,  and  who  are  respected  in  the  community, 
should  say  of  counterfeiting,  "  It  is  bad,  but  there  are  worse  things 
than  that  in  society,"  what  would  become  of  our  trust  and  security  in 
regard  to  any  cii'culating  medium  ?  But  honest  men  hate  counterfeit- 
ing. They  frown  upon  all  the  spurious  money  which  comes  under  their 
notice ;  and  the  result  is  that  it  has  to  sneak  and  go  through  society  in 
the  lowest  channels,  and  the  best  way  it  can.  But  if  there  were  no 
public  sentiment,  if  there  were  no  indignation  of  honesty,  if  there  were 
no  real  honor  that  met  this  thing  and  frowned  upon  it,  it  would  rise 
up  at  once.  Wickedness  in  society  is  all  the  time  seeking  to  gain  as- 
cendancy ;  and  there  is  nothing  to  keep  it  down  but  that  hatred  of  it 
which  the  educated  conscience  of  society  gives.  How  far  up  the  com- 
mon sewers  of  society  shall  rise,  and  how  fast  they  shall  send  out  their 
miasma,  depends  upon  the  education  of  the  conscience  of  the  Christian 
community.  And  a  community  that  has  been  brought  up  to  be  tolerant 
of  wickedness,  or  to  find  excuses  for  it,  or  to  be  indifferent  to  it,  or  to 
be  good-natured  over  it,  becomes  a  patron  of  wickedness,  and  de^ 
moralizes  and  weighs  down  that  which  God  sent  the  Church  and  the 
Christian  community  to  enlighten  and  to  lift  up. 

I  say  that  we  are  to  abhor,  and  that  our  abhorrence  is  to  be  a  very 
strong  feeling.  Some  may  be  led  to  mfer  from  this  that  when  a  man 
abhors  evil  he  is  to  be  harsh  with  it ;  that  he  is  to  talk  loud  against  it ; 
that  he  is  to  use  violent  language  toward  it ;  that  he  is  to  be  intensely 
severe  and  unmeasured  in  dealing  with  it ;  that  he  is  to  tread  it  dowa 
ruthlessly.  But  that  docs  not  follow.  A  man  may  abhor  evil  and  be- 
very  mild.  A  man  may  abhor  evil  and  be  silent.  A  man  may  abhor 
evil  and  be  perfectly  self-possessed  and  serene. 

The  single  look  of  grief  and  surprise  with  which  a  pure  and  noble 
woman  meets  some  unexpected  trait  of  wickedness  in  her  husband,  ia 
to  him  like  Mount  Sinai,  and  all  its  thunders.  It  is  often  said  tliat  the 
woman  is  the  man's  conscience.  A  great  nature  is  often  the  conscience- 
of  a  smaller  nature.     Where  two  natures  are  at  all  equally  mated  and 


404  TESTIMONY  AGAINST  EVIL. 

■-** 
paired,  they  are  a  conscience  to  each  other,  reciprocal  and  interspher- 
ing.  But  how  often  has  a  man  in  the  presence  of  a  virtuous  wife  or  of 
a  pure  and  noble  mother,  been  struck  through  with  a  sense  of  wicked- 
ness by  a  single  expression  from  her  in  respect  to  certain  unlawful 
courses  of  his !  There  is  nothing  which  makes  wickedness  seem  so 
wicked  as  to  bring  it  into  the  presence  of  its  opposite,  as  embodied  in 
a  great  nature.  A  person  may  abhor  wickedness,  and  be  very  gentle, 
very  mild,  very  sweet-spoken.  One  may  have  an  abhorrence  of  wicked- 
ness that  shall  be  like  a  spear  perpetually,  and  yet  be  full  of  love,  full 
of  sympathy,  full  of  goodness.  It  is  not  so  much  the  rash,  harsh, 
violent  expression,  that  is  called  for,  as  it  is  that  deep  loathing,  that 
settled  aversion  of  the  soul  to  all  that  is  known  and  recognized  to  be 
evil.  What  is  wanted,  therefore,  is  positiveness  of  the  whole  strength 
of  feeling — not  violence  of  expression.  ■c.-.  - 

In  this  way,  by  the  expression  of  its  hatred,  of  its  abhorrence,  the 
Christian  Church  educates  the  community,  cleanses  its  opinions,  ele- 
vates its  judgments,  and  redeems  it  from  the  perils  which  always  are 
burrowing  at  the  bottom  of  human  life.  But  in  order  to  do  this,  one 
must  have  a  discriminating  judgment  and  an  educated  conscience. 

If  a  man  should  carry  this  idea  of  abhorring  evil  into  all  the  little 
mistakes  in  life,  he  could  commit  no  greater  error.  One  of  the  great 
mistakes  of  Christendom  is  that  it  recognizes  so  many  sins  that  are 
purely  artificial,  conventional,  such  as  a  man  may  commit  without 
affecting  his  spiritual  nature ;  and  that  it  prescribes  so  many  observ- 
ances which,  so  far  as  a  man's  spiritual  nature  is  concerned,  it  makes  no 
difference  whether  he  keeps  or  not.  As  matters  of  agreement  between 
man  and  man,  they  may  have  some  value ;  but  further  than  that  they 
are  not  essential.  And  yet,  there  are  some  persons  who  will  visit  with 
frowns  and  indignations  a  man  who  breaks  a  saint's  day ;  while  if  he 
equivocates,  as  society  allows  persons  to  equivocate,  dextrously  and 
adroitly,  they  do  not  so  much  as  rebuke  him.  We  all  of  us  think  that 
a  ragged  beggar's  lie  is  a  grossly  wicked  lie ;  but  a  lie  clothed  in  king's 
garments,  a  lie  that  shines,  a  lie  that  is  witty,  a  lie  that  sparkles  with 
intellection,  men  do  not  think  is  so  very  bad.  They  would  burn  a  man 
who  did  not  keep  Sunday,  and  yet,  they  will  not  touch  a  man  when 
he  tells  a  smart  lie.  But  the  truth,  which  is  the  basis  of  confidence 
and  tnist  between  man  and  man,  should  be  as  pure  as  crystal.  A  man 
may  be  given  over  to  his  passions  and  appetites,  he  may  be  avaricious, 
he  may  be  selfish,  he  may  have  the  cruelty  of  pride,  and  still  not  be 
.:severely  judged  by  his  fellows.  Men  seldom  visit  things  with  the  same 
condemnation  that  they  do  the  violation  of  the  conventional  laws  and 
rules  and  regulations  of  society — which  are  not  without  their  value, 
■which  I  do  not  deprecate  nor  depreciate,  but  which  are  not  essential 


TESTIMONY  AGAINST  EVIL.  405 

Now,  I  say,  that  if  we  are  going  to  abhor  evil,  we  must  separate 
evil  from  mere  conventional  sins,  and  discriminate  between  them. 
Those  things  must  be  looked  upon  and  treated  as  evil  which  the  uni- 
versal conscience  recognizes  as  being  wicked.  On  them  must  be  put 
the  signet  of  rejirobation.  While  we  are  not  blind  to  all  milder  evils, 
we  cannot  afford  to  lose  the  emphasis  of  our  abhorrence  by  distributing 
it  to  everything  alike.  As  if  a  man  that  has  a  dirty  collar  must  be 
treated  as  if  he  had  a  dirty  character  I  As  if  a  man  whose  hands  are 
unclean,  and  whose  nails  are  unshorn,  must  be  treated  as  if  his  heart 
were  black  with  lecherous  thoughts !  As  if  a  man  that  is  coarse  in 
his  manners,  must  be  treated  as  if  he  were  coarse  in  his  morals !  It 
is  the  beast  that  is  in  men  ;  it  is  the  belluine  appetites ;  it  is  the  passions 
which  are  destructive  to  peace  and  happiness — it  is  these  that  we  must 
intensify  our  abhorrence  of.  We  cannot,  therefore,  afford  to  spread 
-out  our  horror  over  all  the  little  pecadillos  and  infirmities  and  nibbles 
and  bites  which  come  up  in  ecclesiastical  orderings.  It  is  the  antagonist 
of  love — it  is  selfishness,  in  all  its  moods  and  broods — that  we  must 
abhor. 

There  are  certain  things  in  which  this  may  receive  a  closer  applica- 
tion, and  in  which  an  application  is  very  much  needed. 

In  the  first  place.  Christians — Christian  men  and  Christian  women ; 
young  men  and  maidens ;  all — ought  to  feel  that  they  are  called  to 
witness  their  abhorrence  in  all  the  evil  processes  of  society.  There  is 
a  gi-eat  deal  that  is  allowed  in  society,  that  is  tolerated  there,  although 
everybody  admits  that  it  is  wicked.  Society  is  full  of  permissions.  It 
nests  and  burrows  envies,  and  jealousies,  and  hatreds,  and  slanders. 
JMalignant,  various  and  most  excoriating  vices  of  the  passions,  there 
are  in  society.  And  it  is  the  duty  of  every  man  and  every  woman  to 
6et  their  faces  against  these  things,  wherever  they  happen  to  be — no 
matter  if  they  are  in  respectable  cu-cles.  You  are  a  servant  of  the  Lord, 
and  you  ai-e  all  to  be  tuned  by  His  gi'ace,  and  not  by  the  tuning-fork 
of  custom  or  fashion.  Wherever  you  go,  whatever  thing  is  to  your 
judgment  and  conscience  abhorrent,  you  are  to  frown  upon.  I  do  not 
say  that  at  all  times  and  under  all  circumstances  you  are  to  speak  of 
all  the  evil  that  you  see ;  but  you  are  never  to  allow  yourself  for  one 
single  moment  to  be  on  its  side.  Somehow  or  other  every  person  in 
life  ought  to  make  his  mark  so  that  everybody  shall  know  where  he 
stands  on  the  subject  of  tattling ;  of  backbiting ;  of  slandering ;  of 
tale-bearing ;  of  eating  and  drinking  his  fellow-men.  Society  is  full  of 
cruelty.  Dore's  hideous  pictures  from  Dante  in  which  men  are  repre- 
sented as  gnawing  skull  bones  in  the  infernal  regions;  in  which  men  are 
represented  as  feeding  off  from  their  victims — these  are  enough  to  sliock 
us,  and  diive  us  from  all  pictorial  illustrations  of  that  kind ;  but,  after 


406  TESTIMONY  AGAINST  EVIL. 

all,  we  see  these  things  in  life.  There  is  cannibalism  around  about  ns 
all  the  time  and  everywhere.  Not  a  bird's  leg  is  taken  up  and  counted 
a  more  delicious  morsel,  and  is  more  deliberately  picked  and  chewed 
and  relished  in  all  its  juices,  than  a  person's  reputation  is  taken  up,  and 
cut,  and  bitten,  and  sucked  diy,  and  cast  out.  It  is  wicked  ;  it  is 
damnable ;  it  is  treason  to  man  and  treason  to  God ;  and  yet  such 
things  are  common.  Why !  men  will  not  carry  vermin  on  their  heads 
nor  on  their  bodies.  Perfumed  society — it  would  reject  a  poor  miserable 
wretch  that  came  into  it!  Yet  men  carry  vermin  in  their  souls,  crawl- 
ing and  creeping  all  over  them.  But  because  they  wear  fine  clothes 
and  are  very  wealthy,  or  are  in  official  positions,  they  are  tolerated. 
And  it  is  high  time  that  men  should  learn  to  discriminate  and  hate 
these  feculent  vices  of  detraction,  and  bitterness,  and  envy,  and  jeal- 
ousy— all  those  elements  which  spring  from  the  lower  regions,  and 
which  are  of  the  evil  spu-it,  and  are  made  sacred  in  your  eyes  |)y  the 
fact  that  they  are  permitted.  But  God  ought  to  be  greater  than  man ; 
and  the  absolute  truth  of  God  ought  to  be  more  than  the  permissions 
of  human  society  or  the  legislation  of  public  sentiment. 

That  which  is  true  in  society  ought  also  to  be  true  in  pleasure. 
What  we  need  now  in  life,  above  everything  else,  is  Christian  men  who 
take  the  lead  in  manly  pleasures,  and  make  them  honorable  and  noble. 
Pleasure  is  of  God.  So  is  suffering.  Joy  and  sorrow  are  both  of  thera 
born  of  God.  There  is  a  manly  way  of  enjoying  one's  self  which  is 
not  only  permissible,  but  most  wholesome,  and,  in  moral  things,  most 
beneficial.  Let  men  be  free  to  take  all  rational  amusement,  free  to  take 
joy,  and  that  abundantly;  and  yet  the  moment  pleasure,  and  its  per- 
missions, become  soiled  or  even  sullied,  let  men  turn  away  from  them, 
and  scorn  them,  and  loathe  them,  so  that  the  world,  looking  on  them, 
shall  see  that  they  are  "  men  of  pleasure,"  not  in  the  sense  that  they  are 
men  of  no  conscience,  but  in  the  sense  that  they  are  men  of  eminent 
conscience. 

All  through  society,  the  moment  anything  becomes  pleasant,  wicked 
men  seem  to  gain  ascendancy  in  it.  Is  it  a  joyous  thing  for  men  to 
sail  their  yachts  ?  Speedily  yachting  falls  into  the  hands  of  men  who 
make  it  a  round  ot  dissipation.  A  yacht  life  is  a  life  of  Sodom,  often. 
And  it  is  a  shame !  Are  athletic  and  exciting  games  wholesome  and 
enjoyable?  Speedily  they  fall  into  the  hands  of  men  who  make  thera 
instruments  of  betting  and  cheating  and  stealing — for  men  that  bet  and 

o  o  o 

cheat  are  gamblers,  for  the  most  part ;  and  a  gambler  will  steal  if  he 
has  a  chance,  the  world  over,  if  you  give  him  impunity  and  temptation 
enough.  And  so  they  are  to  be  disallowed.  Ten-pins  and  billiards — 
athletic  games  full  of  stimulus,  and  pleasure,  and  health — how  quick 
they  slip  out  of  the  bauds  of  pure  men  into  the  hands  of  men  that  are 


TESTIMONY  AGAINST  EVIL.  407 

corrupt  I  "What  we  need  in  society  is  men  who  shall  assert  the  im- 
portance of  exercise,  and  the  law  of  manly  pleasure — men  that  shall  be 
free  and  bold,  and  that  shall  at  the  same  time  have  eyes  of  flame,  and 
hearts  of  purity,  and  shall  drive  away  from  the  realm  of  pleasure  all 
that  is  unmanly  and  unclean,  and  keep  it  away. 

We  need,  also,  in  business,  men  of  the  same  stamp ;  for  busi- 
ness, while  it  is  essentially  founded  on  equity,  while  nothing  is  more 
equitable  than  its  law  of  commerce  or  exchange,  has  in  its  actual 
conduct  ten  thousand  pressures  and  influences  which  are  evil  in 
theu"  tendency.  Business  is  full  of  allowed  wickedness.  And  there 
be  many  weak  souls  that,  coming  down  into  business,  first  stand 
silent,  and  then  gradually  lose  susceptibility  to  things  that  are  wi'ong, 
and  finally  begin  to  indulge  in  them  a  little  in  a  cowardly  way, 
and  at  last  lose  all  conscience,  and  all  faith  in  goodness  in  those  direc- 
tions, and  plunge  in  boldly.  And  one  upright,  sagacious,  successful 
man,  that  is  all  the  time  bearing  witness  to  truth,  to  fidelity,  to  honor ; 
one  man  standing  up  immaculate  in  the  midst  of  men  all  around  about 
him,  and  representing  the  superiority  of  virtue  over  vice,  is  a  mission- 
ary. I  think  there  are  single  men  in  Wall-street  who  do  a  thousand 
times  more  to  create  an  abhorrence  of  evil  than  a  hundred  pulpits. 
And  wherever  a  man  feels  himself  to  be  a  Christian,  it  is  his  business 
to  carry  this  sense  of  honor — this  discrimination  between  things  right 
and  wrong — and  be  ready  to  refuse  peremptorily  whatever  violates  his 
principles,  and  stand  up  for  that  which  is  true  and  right  and  pure, 
though  he  stands  alone.  And  he  need  not  blush  because  be  is  in  the 
minority ;  for  God  stands  behind  any  man  who  is  standing  up  for  a  piin- 
ciple,  or  for  a  truth. 

We  need  also  to  have  testimony  more  and  more  as  against  gilded 
wickedness.  And  here  I  can  give  no  better  illustrations  than  those 
found  in  the  realm  of  literature ;  although,  in  saloons,  and  in  the 
various  circles  of  higher  life,  there  is  much  of  wickedness  gilded  by 
genius.  There  is  a  popular  impression  that  if  a  man  has  genius,  it 
sanctifies  anything  that  he  may  do — that  is  to  say,  if  God  gives  a  man 
ten  talents,  though  he  violate  every  one  of.  them,  he  is  not  thought  to 
be  so  wicked  a  man  as  a  man  who,  having  but  one,  violates  that.  Public 
sentiment  exactly  reverses  the  law  of  accountability  as  laid  down  in  the 
New  Testament.  I  hold  that  the  man  who  is  the  most  highly  endowed 
has  the  most  responsibility.  God  demands  more,  and  society  ought  to 
demand  more  of  him  than  of  persons  who  are  less  highly  endowed. 
Higher  standards  of  conduct  should  be  set  up,  and  a  purer  life  required, 
in  proportion  as  men  go  up.  There  are  no  criminals  like  the  unvulgar. 
There  are  no  criminals  like  the  men  who  think  the  furthest  and  tho 
most  brilliantly.  And  those  men  whom  God  has  endowed  with  genius, 


408  TESTIMONY  AGAINST  EVIL. 

and  wlio  fill  literature  with  salacious  images  and  with  music,  so  that 
the  corruptest  sentiments  take  on  the  choicest  language  and  move  in 
the  most  beauteous  numbers,  are  satanic  men,  who  put  wreaths  about 
their  head ;  but  every  leaf  will  distU  damnation,  when  God  shall  call 
them  into  judgment.  There  is  no  wickedness  like  that  which  is  com- 
mitted by  genius,  and  committed  in  such  a  way  that  men  are  caught 
through  their  taste,  through  their  intellect,  through  then*  appetites, 
through  their  nobler  sentiments,  and  carried  down  to  degradation,  and 
to  lust,  and  to  destruction. 

That  is  the  peculiar  trouble  with  the  whole  French  school  of  re- 
formatory novels.  I  am  sorry  to  see,  in  places  where  I  should  not 
have  expected  to  find  it,  approbation  of  George  Sand's  works,  and  a 
beginning  to  publish  them  in  our  language.  Here  is  a  woman  of  genius 
ridiculing  in  her  works  the  sacredness  of  the  marriage  relation,  in  favor 
of  a  sort  of  ideal  marriage  relation  which  she  thinks  is  still  higher. 
Endowed  with  a  marvelous  power  in  literature,  her  whole  temper  and 
personal  magnetism  is  in  favor  of  unvirtue.  But  we  do  not  need 
French  morality  in  Anglo  Saxon  communities.  It  may  be  good  reform- 
ation in  Paris,  but  it  is  poor  reformation  here.  There  is  Eugene  Sue, 
and  Dumas,  and  Victor  Hugo,  and  a  host  of  names  with  which,  for- 
tunately, I  am  not  enough  familiar  to  call  off  at  hap-hazard,  whose 
works,  it  seems  to  me,  can  only  be  read  by  morbid  anatomists  of  litera- 
tm-e.  They  are  bad  for  the  young,  and  there  ought  to  be  an  emphasis 
against  them  in  society,  and  in  Christian  families.  Christian  writers 
and  teachers  ought  to  denounce  them,  and  bear  testimony  against 
them,  such  as  to  prevent  then*  currency.  It  is  said,  "  It  will  make 
people  read  them  more."  Yes ;  but  it  will  make  them  read  as  crim- 
inals, and  not  as  respectable  men.  The  moment  a  man  puts  a  book  in 
his  pocket,  and  reads  it  by  stealth,  it  has  gone  out  of  the  range  in 
which  it  is  liable  to  do  much  harm.  The  moment  a  book  is  made  dis- 
reputable, so  that  persons  who  read  it  have  to  do  it  by  stealth  in  order 
to  keep  respectable,  it  has  lost  much  of  its  power  for  evil.  Com- 
mon literature  is  becoming  more  mighty  than  any  other  j  more  mighty 
than  the  sword  or  the  purse ;  and  the  world  is  coming  more  and  more 
under  the  dominion  of  it.  And  there  need  to  be  Chiistian  legislation, 
a  Christian  public  sentiment,  and  Christian  canons  of  judgment ;  and 
nowhere  more  than  just  there  is  it  necessary  that  men  should  be  trained 
to  abhor  evil,  no  matter  how  gilded  or  beautiful,  or  musical.  It  is  all 
the  worse  if  it  is  beautiful.  Poison  disguised  is  no  less  poison,  but  it 
is  more  likely  to  be  taken. 

And  lastly,  men  must  bear  a  testimony,  in  such  a  nation  as  this, 
that  shall  be  felt  perpetually  on  the  subject  of  political  wickedness. 
Men  who  are  in  high  places  form  a  kind  of  public  sentiment ;  they 


TESTIMONY  AGAINST  EVIL,  409 

separate  themselves  from  the  mass  of  men  for  the  tune  being,  and  so, 
loo  often,  they  lose  sensibility  to  the  general  public  sentiment.  We  do 
wrong  to  ourselves,  to  our  children,  and  to  the  commonwealth,  when 
we  permit  wickedness  in  high  places  to  go  unrebuked.     It  ought  to  be 
rebuked  in  the  pulpit,  in  the  street,  on  the  exchange,  everywhere. 
When  men  have  done  wickedly ;  when  they  have  done  those  things 
which  touch  the  foundation  of  morality,  unless  they  repent  and  turn 
away  from  their  wrong  courses,  they  ought  not  to  be  encouraged  by 
even  your  social  recognition.     I  know  of  men  that  I  would  not  accept 
an  introduction  to.     I  could  not  consent  to  put  myself  on  terms  of 
equality  with  them.   I  would  go  to  them  as  I  would  go  to  a  man  under 
sentence  of  death,  to  win  him  to  repentence  ;  I  would  go  to  them  as  a 
minister,  and  a  missionaiy ;  I  would  go  to  them,  if  peradventure  I 
might  pluck  them  as  brands  from  the  burning/  but  where  it  is  a  ques- 
tion of  social  equality,  I  could  not  consent  to  stand  side  by  side  with 
them,  and  have  it  supposed  that  I  regarded  them  on  a  level  with  a 
Christian  man  and  gentleman.     Such  things  are  guarded  in  some  na- 
tions where  there  are  ranks  and  orders  of  nobility,  but  there  is  no  such 
thmg  as  that  with  us.     There  is  in  a  democracy  but  one  thing  that  can 
save  us,  and  that  is  the  aristocracy  of  Christian  virtue.     And  the  light 
of  the  heart  of  Jesus  shining  on  things  j^ermitted,  and  on  things  not 
permitted,  is  to  be  our  guide.     And  the  business  of  the  Church  is  to 
raise  up  a  testimony  that  shall  make  itself  felt,  and  that  shall  keep  up 
the  distinction  between  good  and  evil,  right  and  wrong,  selfishness  and 
benevolence,  so  that  no  man  can  go  to  the  one  side  or  to  the  other  with- 
out knowing  it.     That  is  what  is  meant  by  being  "  the  light  of  the 
world."     It  is  not  that  we  are  to  preach  doctrine — though  that  comes 
in  incidentally ;  but  that  we  are  to  make  the  lines  and  land-marks  so 
clear  that  they  cannot  be  removed  by  mistake,  but  only  by  malice  pre- 
pense.    So  the  Church  will  become  more  and  more  an  ensample  and 
witness,  and  more  and  more  an  encourager.     And  it  will  requu-e  some 
courage,  especially  for  the  young,  and,  for  that  matter,  for  the  old ; 
it  will  require  some  courage  for  men  who  have  not  been  very  positive 
and  decided,  and  for  men  whose  interests  frequently  lead  them  to  wink 
at  things  which  are  wi'ong — it  will  require  some  courage  for  them  to 
become  witnesses  against  evil.    But  what  is  your  faith  in  Christ  worth, 
what  is  your  hope  in  Jesus  worth,  what  is  your  belief  in  the  life  ever- 
lasting worth,  what  is  your  confidence  in  purity  and  in  the  sweetness 
of  the  heait  of  Christ  borne  into  your  heart  worth,  if  they  do  not 
strengthen  you  to  bear  testimony  to  the  right  and  against  the  wrong 
wherever  you  go.     Wherever  there  is  wickedness,  somebody  must  ab- 
hor it :  not  clamorously ;   not  vindictively ;  not  harshly ;  but  firmly. 
You  must  set  over  against  the  wickedness  of  this  world  its  opposite—* 


410  TESTIMONY  AGAINST  EVIL. 

purity  and  virtue ;  and  with  such  emphasis  that  men  sb 
lovely  the  one  is,  and  how  hateful  the  other  is. 

So,  then,  without  urging  you  to  become  malignant  reformers,  or, 
still  less,  denouncers  and  destroyers,  I  would  say,  Abhor,  in  all  things, 
that  which  is  evil,  and  cleave  to  that  which  is  good.  And  the  harvest 
and  fruitfulness  and  beauty  of  that  good  to  which  you  cleave,  and 
which  you  caress — that  it  is  which  shall  make  your  testimony  against 
evil  medicinal,  remedial,  not  poisonous. 

May  God  gi'ant  that  in  that  great  conflict,  whether  silent  or  clamor- 
ous, which  is  going  on  between  the  power  of  light  and  the  power  of 
darkness,  between  purity  ani  impurity,  between  selfishness  and  unsel- 
fishness, between  divine  virtue  and  infernal  malignity,  every  one  of  us 
may  bear  the  name  of  Christ,  and  may  be  found  on  the  side  of  truth 
and  of  virtue  and  of  piety,  abhorring  that  which  is  evil,  and  cleaving 
to  that  which  is  good. 


TESTIMONY  AGAINST  EVIL.  411 

PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

We  draw  near  to  thee,  our  ITeavenly  Father,  led  by  thy  hand ;  for  Jesiia 
is  our  Elder  Brother,  "We  know  him  ;  and  in  him  we  know  thee.  Yet,  not 
as  a  stranger  do  we  draw  near  to  thee.  We  have  come  so  often,  thou  hast 
made  thyself  through  infinite  condescension  so  gentle  unto  us,  and  so  famil- 
iar, that  we  are  as  children  coming  home.  We  have  brought  so  many  wants 
in  time  of  trouble;  we  have  come  weighed  down  with  so  many  burdens, 
pierced  with  so  many  experiences,  and  tried  by  so  many  temptations,  that 
we  come  with  confidence.  We  have  put  thee  to  proof,  and  found  thee  doing 
exceeding  abundantly  more  than  we  asked  or  thought;  so  that  we  come 
familiarly,  most  boldly,  to  the  throne  of  grace,  to  obtain  mercy  and  help  in 
time  of  need. 

We  thank  thee  that  thou  hast  made  this  way  so  glorious  to  us  that  not 
men  who  love  most,  nor  those  who  are  strongest,  are  so  much  to  us  as  thou 
art,  that  dwellest  in  silence.  There  is  a  strength  of  succor  above  the  sight, 
and  beyond  our  reach.  All  things  and  all  men  that  work  for  us  in  this 
sphere  below  are  influenced  by  thy  gracious  Spirit  to  do  it.  Thou  art  the 
Fountain  and  the  source  of  all  help.  Our  life  is  in  thee.  We  live  upon 
thy  laws.  We  live  in  the  secret  searching  providence  which  constantly  lira- 
inates  evil,  and  brings  in  good.  We  live  by  those  powers  in  ourselves  which 
burn  only  as  thou  pourest  fuel  upon  them.  All  that  we  have  had.  we  have 
had  from  thee.  All  that  by  which  we  are  sustained  is  of  thee.  All  the  ends 
towards  which  we  are  pressing  forward  are  marked  out  by  thee.  And  we 
rejoice  that  when  we  sin,  and  fall  into  sufl"ering,  and  into  disgrace,  it  is  of 
thee  that  we  are  restored.  It  is  not  what  thou  hast  done,  but  what  thou  art, 
that  gives  us  hope.  For  thou  hast  disclosed  the  ineflfable  love  of  thy  pater- 
nal heart  to  us.  It  is  thy  nature  to  forgive.  It  is  thy  heart's  desire  to 
cleanse.  It  is  the  peculiarity  of  thy  holiness  to  nurse  and  patiently  bring  up 
holiness  in  others.  And  thou  hast  made  it  manifest  in  thy  Son,  and  in  his 
sacrifice,  that  sin  is  pardonable.  And  in  him  we  have  confidence  as  inter- 
preting to  us  the  whole  glorious  nature  of  a  God  who  is  willing  to  sufier 
rather  than  that  we  should  suffer  ;  of  a  God  who  would  rather  restore  than 
punish  ;  of  a  God  who  desires  a  remedy  for  sin,  more  than  to  crush  it  and 
make  it  final. 

Thou,  O  Lord  our  God !  dost  behold  the  ineffable  sinfulness  of  sin  ;  and 
we  are  glad  that  it  does  not  drive  forth  from  thy  heart  flames  that  shall  con- 
sume and  devour  the  sinner ;  but  that  from  thy  heart  come  forth  all  the 
remedial  tides  of  mercy  and  of  love,  that  men  may  live,  and  be  restored,  and 
become  trophies  of  thy  redeeming  grace. 

And  grant  that  our  hearts  may  become  like  thine,  that  we  too,  may  have 
great  hatred  for  things  uniquitous ;  that  we  may  abhor  evil ;  that  we  may 
cleave  to  that  which  is  good  ;  and  that  we  may  be  able  to  redeem  men  from 
evil,  and,  in  a  spirit  of  kindness,  restore  such  as  have  gone  astray. 

And  we  pray  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy  blessing  to  rest  upon  all 
those  who  are  laboring  for  the  reclamation  of  men  from  evil ;  for  the  resto- 
ration of  society  to  virtue  and  to  purity ;  for  the  establishment  of  good  mor- 
als; and  for  the  inculcation  of  true  piety.  May  they  never  grow  weary  or 
faint.  Multiply  the  number  of  those  that  shall  go  forth  as  heralds  of  Christ 
to  preach  the  Gospel,  and  the  unsearchable  riches  thereof.  We  pray  that 
thy  kingdom  may  come  everywhere,  and  that  wickedness  may  flee  away ; 
and  that  all  darkness,  and  selfishness,  and  cruelty,  and  ignorance,  and  super- 
stition, and  tyranny,  may  henceforth  be  cleansed,  and  that  that  joyful  day 
of  deliverance  may  come  which  is  shouted  alike  by  angels  in  heaven  and 
saints  upon  earth. 

And  to  tliy  name  shall  be  the  glory  of  this  triumph,  Father,  Son  and 
Spirit.    Amen. 


412  TESTIMONY  AGAINST  EVIL. 

PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wouldst  bless  the  word  of  ad- 
monition. Grant  that  by  the  light  of  the  Holy  Spirit  it  may  take  possession 
of  our  understandings  ;  and  not  only  of  our  understandings,  but  of  our  will ; 
and  that  it  may  come  down  into  our  life.  So  sanctify  us  and  fill  us  with  all 
goodness,  that  everywhere  we  go,  even  by  our  silent  example,  we  shall  be 
witnesses  against  evil.  We  pray  for  more  and  more  power  on  the  side  of 
goodness.  Behold  thy  cause.  IIow  it  struggles,  often  overborne !  How 
yet  the  prince  of  the  power  of  the  air  carries  with  him  fashion,  and  beauty, 
and  all  things  that  fascinate  the  fancy  and  the  imagination.  Lord  God,  we 
pray  for  the  purification  of  life.  We  pray  for  the  ennobling  of  men.  We 
pray  for  the  weakening  of  those  that  destroy,  and  for  the  strengthening  of 
those  that  would  build  up.  Let  thy  kingdom  come,  and  thy  will  be  done 
on  the  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven.  And  to  thy  name  shall  be  the  praise,  Father, 
Sou  and  Spirit.    Amen. 


XXIV. 

The  Danger  of  Tampering  with  Sin. 


t 

I 


THE   DANGEK 

OF 

TAMPERING  WITH  SIN. 


I  shall  call  your  attention  to  the  history  which  is  contained  in  the 
8th  chapter  of  2nd  Kings,  from  the  7th  verse  to  the  15th  inclusive. 

**  And  Elisha  came  to  Damascus." 

Elisha  and  Elijah  were  two  eminent  prophets.  Elijah  had,  not  a 
gi'eat  while  before,  disappeared.  He  was  an  extraordinary  man,  stern, 
imperious,  dramatic  to  the  last  degi*ee.  Elisha  was  a  mildei*,  a  far 
more  gentle  man ;  and  in  his  life  you  will  find  less  rebuke  of  wrong, 
less  war  against  evil,  and  more  works  and  miracles  of  mercy  and  of 
kindness.  Nevertheless,  a  venerable  figure  he  was,  standing  out  and 
apart  upon  the  background  of  that  dark  day  in  an  eminent  manner. 
These  old  prophets  had  no  prescribed  bounds.  They  roamed  to  and  fro 
as  the  spiiit  carried  them.  They  appeared  sometimes  in  one  part  of  the 
kingdom  and  sometimes  in  another.  Occasionally,  they  had  then*  reg- 
ular circuits.  Samuel  did ;  but  he  combined  with  the  functions  of  the 
prophet's  ofiice  the  judicial  functions.  Elijah  did  not.  He  sometimes 
watched  the  imperial  power,  to  judge  and  to  condemn  and  to  execute. 
Elisha  seems  almost  never  to  have  gone  to  any  such  extremes  as  that ; 
but  he  had  rather  a  wandering  nature — a  habit  of  life  impossible  to  such 
a  state  of  society  as  ours,  but  peculiarly  congenial  to  the  condition  of 
things  in  that  nation,  and  in  Oriental  nations  generally.  And  at  that 
time  he  had,  for  some  reason  (it  is  not  stated  what),  gone  to  Damascus, 
which  lies  at  the  northeast  of  Palestine. 

"While  there,  one  day  it  was  told  him  that  the  whole  street  was  fill- 
ing up ;  that  there  was  a  great  company  of  men  and  a  great  company 
of  camels.  Some  one  counted  the  camels.  There  were  forty  of  them. 
And  the  attendants  were  numerous.  They  wore  the  king's  livery. 
And  thei'c  were  distinguished  officers  among  them. 

"Beiihadad,  the  King  of  Syria,  was  sick;  and  it  was  told  him,  saying, 
The  man  of  God  has  come  hither." 

A  most  excellent  name  for  an  old  public  servant  to  honor.     Pro- 

Si'NUAT  EvRNTNo,  December  19,  1869.    Lbsson:  JaicbsL  13-S7.  Hthnb  (Plymonth  Col* 

leetiou)    Nos.  733,  531,  6j7. 


414  THE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERING  WITH  SIN. 

phets  did  sometimes  honor  it.  But  there  have  been  public  servants 
who  have  lived  long  lives,  and  whom  nobody  thought  of  calling  men 
of  God.  But  this  man,  who  had  been,  it  might  almost  be  said,  in  su- 
preme influence,  during  his  time,  in  his  nation,  was  known  even  in 
foreign  coiu'ts  as  "the  Man  of  God." 

The  ofiicer  was  brought  into  the  prophet's  presence.  His  name  was 
Hazael.  He  came  from  the  king;  and  this  is  the  reason  of  his 
coming : 

"  The  king  said  unto  Hazael,  Take  a  present  in  thine  hand,  and  go,  meet 
the  man  of  God,  and  inquire  of  the  Lord  by  him,  saying.  Shall  I  recover  of 
this  disease  ?  So  Hazael  went  to  meet  him,  and  took  a  present  with  him, 
even  of  every  good  thing  of  Damascus,  forty  camels'  burden,  and  came  and 
stood  before  him  and  said.  Thy  son,  Benhadad,  King  of  Syria,  hath  sent  to 
thee,  saying.  Shall  I  recover  of  this  disease  ?" 

When  kings,  when  great  men  are  well  and  are  in  their  royal 
clothes,  they  are  a  great  deal  better  than  common  folks — at  any  rate 
they  think  so.  And  common  folks  are  apt  to  think  so  too.  There  is  a 
great  deal  of  worshipping  of  great  men  ;  but  there  are  no  men  so  great 
that  when  they  are  sick  they  are  not  just  as  childish,  and  just  as  weak 
and  feeble  as  anybody  else.  When  a  fever  takes  hold  of  a  man,  it 
never  asks  "Who  is  he?"  And  when  a  man  lies  unnerved,  unstrung, 
with  all  the  world  apparently  passing  away  from  him,  his  head  racked 
with  shooting  and  fiery  pains,  and  every  bone  in  his  body  as  it  were 
disjointing  itself;  when  a  man  lies  thus  a  prey  to  sickness,  what  is  his 
crown  to  him  ?  What  is  his  sceptre  to  him  then  ?  What  are  his  treas- 
ures to  him  then  ?  What  to  him,  then,  are  all  the  things  which  he  has 
done  in  the  past  ?  When  men  lie  sick,  there  is  no  difference  between 
one  and  another.  And  this  old  Oriental  king,  who,  when  he  was  well, 
was  so  proud  and  haughty,  when  he  was  sick  sent  his  chief  servant  Har 
zael  to  "  a  man  of  God,"  saying,  "  Shall  I  recover  of  this  disease  T  For, 
as  the  sequel  shows,  he  was  very  weak  indeed — so  weak  that  he  could 
not  lift  a  cloth.     The  prophet  answers : 

"  Go  say  unto  him.  Thou  mayest  certainly  recover ;  howbeit,  the  Lord 
hath  showed  me  that  he  shall  surely  die"  [that  is  to  say,  there  is  nothing  in 
his  disease  to  carry  him  off;  and  yet  he  is  going  to  die.] 

And  then,  as  the  man  stood  before  him,  the  prophet,  lowering  his 
face,  gazed  full  into  his  eye.  He  spoke  nothing,  but  looked  him 
through  and  through,  till  Hazael  could  not  stand  the  gaze  any  longer. 
He  was  utterly  confused  by  it.     This  is  the  language : 

"  He  settled  his  countenance  steadfastly,  until  he  was  ashamed ;  and  the 
man  of  God  wept." 

In  other  words,  he  brought  his  face  down,  and  looked  steadily  and 
sternly  into  Hazael's  face,  and  Hazael  was  ashamed.  He  was  confused, 
and  he  lost  countenance  before  the  prophet ;  and  at  that  the  prophet 
burst  into  tears. 


I 


THE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERING  WITH  SIN.  415 

"  And  Hazael  said,  Why  weepeth  my  Lord  ?  And  he  answered,  "Recause 
I  know  the  evil  that  thou  wilt  do  unto  the  children  of  Israel :  their  strong- 
holds wilt  thou  set  on  fire,  nnd  their  young  men  wilt  thou  slay  with  the 
sword,  and  wilt  dash  their  children  and  rip  up  their  women  with  child." 

This  declaration  shot  unaifected  horror  through  the  mind  of  Ilazael. 

He  was  not  a  man  prepared  for  the  allegation  of  such  cruelties.  I  have 

no  doubt  that  his  horror  was  genuine ;  that  it  was  not  dramatic  nux- 

excusatory,  but  real. 

"  And  Ilazael  said.  But  what !  is  thy  servant  a  dog  that  he  should 
this  great  [this  abominable]  thing  ?     And  Elisha  answered,  The  Lord  ha 
showed  me  that  thou  slialt  be  king  over  Syria." 

From  that  moment,  the  idea  began  to  take  on  an  active  form  in  his 

mind-work.     And  he  went  back  and  began  his  career  by  telling  an 

out  and  out  lie. 

"  What  said  Elisha  to  thee  ?  [said  Benhadad]  and  he  answered.  He  told 
me  that  thou  shouldst  surely  recover.  And  it  caaie  to  pass  on  the  morrow 
that  he  took  a  thick  cloth  and  dipped  it  in  water  and  spread  it  on  his 
face,  so  that  he  died.     And  Hazael  reigned  in  his  stead." 

A  man  extremely  reduced  by  sickness  and  enfeebled,  with  a  thick 
cloth  thus  laid  and  held  over  his  face,  would  suffocate  speedily  ;  and 
Hazael  took  this  method,  doubtless,  that  there  might  be  no  inquiry ; 
that  it  might  seem  that  the  king  had  died  a  natural  death.  Having 
put  all  the  men  out  of  the  palace,  as  we  may  suppose  he  did,  he  re- 
sorted to  this  cunning  expedient.  It  may  be  that  he  would  have  ex- 
perienced a  horror  at  the  idea  of  spilling  blood ;  but  then,  to  take  a 
man's  breath  away  by  a  clean  method,  in  a  skillful  manner,  was  very 
different,  he  reasoned,  from  spilling  his  blood.  He  would  not  do  such 
a  thing  as  shed  a  man's  blood  ;  but  he  would  take  a  cloth  and  spread 
it  over  his  face.  And  he  did  not  kill  the  king.  It  was  not  he  !  But 
the  king  was  dead.  And  so,  as  the  next  step,  the  army  being  in  his 
hands  already  and  there  being  no  contestant,  he  took  the  crown  and 
sceptre,  and  was  on  the  throne. 

Now  the  first  question  which  arises  here  is,  was  it  right  for  the 
prophet  to  put  this  thing  in  Hazael's  mind  ?  Ought  the  prophet  to 
have  stirred  up  in  him  this  ambition?  AVas  it  right  for  him  to  give 
him  encouragement,  or  even  suggestion  of  the  possibility  of  his  reign- 
ing in  the  stead  of  Benhadad?  There  is  no  evidence  that  the  prophet 
did  first  put  it  into  his  mind,  and  much  evidence  that  he  did  not.  It 
is  very  certain  that  he  did  not  put  into  his  mind  any  suggestion  of  the 
steps  by  which  he  was  to  become  king.  It  might  have  been  by  suc- 
cession ;  it  might  have  been  years  afterwards  and  in  some  regular 
order.  There  is  not  a  word  in  the  prophet's  history  which  shows  that 
he  suggested  to  Hazael  the  road  by  which  he  was  to  come  to  this 
power,  or  the  method  by  which  he  was  to  attain  it.  That  was  Hazael's 
own  work.     All  he  could  say  was,  "  The  prophet  has  shown  me  that 


416  TEE  DANQEB  OF  TAMPEBING  WITH  SIN. 

at  some  time  and  in  some  way,  I  am  to  be  king  ;"  and  he  found  out 
the  time  and  the  way  himself. 

It  is  evident,  too,  that  it  was  only  a  spark  that  fell  on  tinder  that 
was  already  there.  No  man  can  be  tempted  suddenly  to  great  crime. 
It  is  contrary  to  the  nature  of  the  soul.  There  is  to  be  a  preparation 
for  all  great  wrongs  in  the  foregoing  tendencies  of  the  person  that 
commits  them.  No  man  becomes  a  tyrant  in  a  day.  No  man  becomes 
a  miser  in  a  day.  No  man  becomes  a  drunkard  in  a  day.  No  person 
becomes  a  termagant  in  a  day.  No  person  falls  into  any  great  ex- 
treme suddenly,  as  down  a  precipice.  Men  come  to  these  things  little 
by  little.  And  if  Hazael  deliberately  committed  murder,  he  had 
thought  about  murder  before.  One  man  might  kill  another  in  a  pas- 
sion without  having  pondered  the  matter ;  but  no  man  ever  deliber- 
ately killed  another  man  who  had  not  thought  about  it  before.  No 
man  ever  committed  an  illustrious  wickedness  without  having  pon- 
dered, if  not  the  thing  itself,  yet  the  possibilities  of  it.  Men  think, 
oftentimes,  "  I  would  not  kill  that  man — of  course  1  would  not ;  but 
then,  what  if  he  were  killed  ?  What  would  happen  ?"  And  then  they 
detail  to  themselves  all  the  blessings  which  would  come  from  it. 
"  With  this  obstacle  out  of  my  path,"  they  say,  "  there  would  be  this 
benefit  to  me ;  this  augmentation  of  my  estate ;  this  increase  of  my 
power."  And  so  men  build  castles  in  the  air,  and  brood  upon  wrong 
and  crime,  and  prepare  themselves,  by  brooding,  for  giving  away  under 
temptation. 

Now,  do  you  suppose  Hazael  had  never  had  in  his  mind  the  thought, 
"Why  should  not  I  be  king?"  He  had  administered  the  king's  whole 
power.  He  had  tasted  the  sweets  of  power.  He  had  known  all  the 
machinery  of  government.  And  he  had  said  often  to  himself,  "  The 
sword  fits  my  hand,  as  well  as  my  organization  ;  and  why  would  not 
the  sceptre  too  V  He  had  pondered  this  question  ;  and  doubtless  he 
meant  at  some  time  or  other  to  take  advantage  of  his  position  and 
sit  upon  the  throne.  And  when  the  prophet  said  to  him,  "  God  has 
revealed  to  me  that  thou  shalt  be  king,"  it  did  not  teach  him  anything 
that  he  had  not  thought  of  before.  It  was  just  what  he  had  thought 
about.  And  he  turned  his  face  and  said,  "  Is  it  not  time  for  me  to  be 
king  ?  And  what  is  in  the  way  ?  What  is  easier  than  to  put  this  old 
sick,  weak  king  out  of  the  way  ?  I  will  do  it."  And  he  did  do  it.  And 
it  was  his  fault. 

Then  what  of  that  exclamation  of  horror — "  Is  thy  servant  a  dog, 
that  he  should  do  this  gi-eat  thing  T  This  was  not  uttered  in  reference 
to  the  fact  that  he  was  to  be  king,  but  in  reference  to  the  declaration 
that  when  king  he  would  be  a  cruel  king,  and  that  he  would 
seek  the  destruction  of  Israel,  and  murder  women  and  children,  and 


THE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERING  WITH  SIN.  417 

exercise  power  in  the  most  tyrannical  and  oppressive  manner.  It  was 
at  this  that  Ilazael  revolted.  And  yet,  it  came  to  pass  that  he  reigned 
for  about  forty  years  in  Damascus ;  and  during  that  time  he  wrested 
away  from  Israel  all  their  possessions  east  of  the  river  Jordan  (they 
were  extensive  and  valuable  possessions)  and  di'ove  them  through  the 
land  even  into  Philistia.  And  he  laid  siege  to  Jerusalem.  And  after 
destroying  the  land,  he  was  bribed  from  taking  the  city  of  Jerusalem 
only  by  receiving  all  the  treasures  of  the  temple.  And  in  his  military 
career  he  did  inflict  all  the  miseries  that  had  been  foreshadowed  by  the 
prophet,  and  more. 

From  this  history  some  points  of  instruction  may  be  derived. 
\J  You  cannot  predict,  from  a  man's  early  natural  disposition,  what  he 
will  be  capable  of  There  is  a  gradual  unfolding  which  takes  place  both 
in  good  and  in  bad.  And  though  it  is  true  that  a  naturally  good  dispo- 
sition is  a  very  great  advantage,  and  creates  some  presumptions  in 
favor  of  a  man,  yet  natural  dispositions  are  not  enough.  Men  need 
something  more  than  that  which  simply  makes  them  appear  amiable 
and  lovely  in  the  beginning.  For,  if  a  man  has  ever  so  amiable  and 
kind  a  disposition,  it  is  possible  for  him  to  lapse  from  one  step  to 
another,  and  from  that  to  another,  and  from  that  to  yet  another,  until 
by-and-by  he  is  far  down  below  that  disposition.  Nothing  can  save  a 
man  but  firm  habits,  steadfast  principles,  and  the  grace  ot  God  in  con- 
firmation of  them.  No  natural  endowment  of  amiableness  can  keep  a 
man  from  being  spoiled;  for  although  a  man  may  not,  with  such  a  dis- 
position as  this,  rush  into  every  sin,  yet  every  man  will  be  tempted  ac- 
cording to  the  disposition  that  is  in  him.  And  though  he  may  not  be 
accessible  to  all  kinds  of  sin  and  temptation,  yet  there  is  some  one  line 
in  which  he  is  accessible.  Every  man  may  be  so  tempted  that,  although 
in  his  youth  everything  was  fair,  in  his  old  age  everything  turns  out 
blighted. 

If  you  could,  by  some  power  from  on  high,  go  back  and  read  the 
early  history  of  men  who  have  made  shipwreck  of  life ;  if  you  could 
look  upon  the  faces  which  they  bore  when  they  were  beautiful,  amia- 
ble, sweet  children,  beloved  of  father  and  mother,  and  around  whom 
all  hopes  clustered ;  and  if  you  could  see  how  promising  was  their 
early  manhood ;  and  then  contrast  this  with  their  old  age,  when 
they  are  blighted,  scan-ed  with  passions,  disgraced  by  crime,  utterly 
wrecked  morally,  you  would  be  amazed  at  their  rapid  and  comi)lete  de- 
terioration. There  has  been  many  a  man  who  has  swung  on  the  gal- 
lows, and  many  another  who  ought  to ;  there  has  been  many  a  man 
who  has  lain  in  prison,  and  many  another  who  ought  to  have  been  his 
companion ;  there  has  been  many  a  man  who  has  been  marked  by  pub- 
lic reprobation ;  there  has  been  many  a  man  that  has  been  swept  by 


418  TEE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERmG  WITH  SIK 

bankruptcy  and  disgi'ace,  who  in  the  beginning  of  life  had  just  the 
same  chance  of  being  honored  and  beloved  while  living,  and  lamented 
when  dead,  which  those  men  had  who  have  reached  saintship.  You 
cannot  tell  by  the  way  a  man  feels  to-day  how  he  will  feel  a  year  hence, 
or  six  years  hence. 

It  is  not  enough,  then,  that  a  man  should  have  simply  good  dispo- 
sitions or  good  intents.  When  Hazael  received  the  declaration  that  he 
should  become  a  monster  of  cruelty  there  can  be  no  question  but  that 
it  affected  him  with  horror.  He  did  not  believe  it  then.  And  yet,  the 
seed  and  root  were  in  him,  and  it  required  but  the  appropriate  cii'cum- 
stances  and  temptations  to  bring  them  out. 

^  V  This  leads  me  to  say  that  men  are  capable  of  a  course  at  which  their 
whole  nature  revolts.  But  it  must  be  through  a  gradual  reduction  to 
a  lower  condition.  Each  step  toward  it  will  be  slight.  There  will  be 
few  plunges  in  the  early  periods  of  decadence.  Men  do  at  first  things 
that  are  right  in  themselves.  Then  they  go  still  further  along  through 
things  that  are  not  wrong  in  themselves..  Then  they  go  still  further 
along  in  things  that,  if  they  are  equivocal,  can  scarcely  be  called  posi- 
tively pernicious.  I  think  that  men  in  evU  courses  are  like  persons 
who  go  down  winding  stau-s.  The  upper  stairs  hide  the  lower  ones,  so 
that  they  can  see  only  three  or  four  steps  before  them.     Men  go  down 

.  courses  of  pleasure  and  vice  and  crime,  seeing  only  one  or  two  steps  in 

!  a  whole  career.  And  so  each  step  is  a  slight  one.  Although  the 
whole  of  then.'  career  may  be  monstrous,  there  is  no  one  single  point  of 
it,  clear  down  to  its  very  last  stages,  that  taxes  very  much  their  fear  or 
then*  conscience.  Men  seldom,  until  they  become  hardened,  do  whole- 
sale wickedness.  That  is  the  last  part.  That  takes  place  when  men 
are  given  once  to  do  iniquity.  But  in  all  the  early  stages,  in  all  those 
periods  in  which  men  think  they  are  perfectly  safe,  the  peculiarity  is 
that  they  take  short  steps,  and  but  few  of  them,  adding  a  little  more 
to-day,  and  a  little  more  to-morrow,  and  a  little  more  next  week,  and 
a  little  more  next  month,  and  a  little  more  next  year,  and  a  little  from 
year  to  year.  And  so  they  are  gradually  demoralized  and  carried 
down,  until  at  last  they  are  destroyed.  That  which  there  was  no  power 
to  do  suddenly,  in  time  they  have  done  themselves.  There  are  persons, 
some  forty-five  and  some  fifty  years  old,  some  younger  and  some  older, 
of  whom  people,  looking  on  them,  would  say,  "  What  monster  is  that?" 
'  I  And  yet  they  are  persons  who  came  to  their  degradation  without  a  shock, 
/  little  by  little,  little  by  little. 

3  This  is  the  reason  and  philosophy  of  keeping  aloof  from  courses 
which  lower  the  moral  tone  of  the  mind.  There  are  very  many  courses 
in  life  which  are  wrong,  not  because  the  things  themselves  are  wrong, 
not  because  the  immediate  consequences  are  mischievous,  but  because 


TEE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERING  WITH  SIN.  419 

they  have  an  effect  upon  the  mind  to  lower  its  moral  tone.  A  man, 
for  instance,  may  begin  in  things  that  at  first  do  not  particularly 
violate  honor.  He  may  be  sensitive  and  high-minded.  And  yet  these 
things  may  have  a  tendency  to  depress  the  tone  of  honor.  And  they 
may  be  repeated  until  by-and-by  that  man's  feeling  on  the  subject  of 
honor  and  his  power  of  resistance  to  dishonor,  is  so  dull  and  feeble 
that  when  there  comes,  at  length,  after  this  discipline  and  gradual 
change,  the  appropriate  temptation,  he  will  do  that  which  is  dishonor- 
able and  scarcely  feel  it.  It  is  the  early  steps  that  lead  a  man  to 
wrong  under  such  circumstances.  They  gradually  bring  him  into  a 
condition  in  which  he  is  predisposed  to  wrong. 

Men  ai-e  seldom  stricken  down  with  malaria  when  they  first  go  into 
malarial  regions.  Frequently  the  disease  does  not  show  itself  until  the 
second  or  third  year.  And  persons  living  in  new  countries  often  rejoice 
in  their  immunity.  I  have  lived  where  chills  and  fever  was  prevalent, 
and  heard  a  great  deal  about  it,  and  seen  other  people  have  it ;  and  I 
noticed  that  often  they  escaped  until  the  second  year ;  but  during  the 
first  year  they  were  breathing  the  malarial  atmosphere,  and  a  gradual 
process  of  poisoning  was  going  on  in  them  which  had  not  disclosed 
itself  But  the  moment  it  did  disclose  itself  they  broke  down  under 
the  disease.  I  feared  that  I  should  have  it ;  but  I  was  not  susceptible 
to  such  things.  I  seemed  to  have  a  peculiar  temperament  in  that  re- 
spect. The  facts,  therefore,  showed  that  a  man  in  one  state  being 
attacked  by  disease  would  take  it,  whereas  a  man  in  another  state  would 
not.  If  a  man  has  vigor  and  resiliency  of  nerve ;  if  there  is  that  in 
him  which,  when  he  comes  into  the  atmosphere  of  contagious  diseases 
fights  them  and  throws  them  off,  then  he  can  walk  in  the  midst  of 
dangers  and  be  safe.  But  if  there  is  a  certain  lack  of  tone  and  i*esisting 
power  in  his  system,  he  breaks  down. 

It  is  precisely  that  state  which  is  the  most  dangerous  in  the  early 
life  of  young  men  and  maidens.  It  is  that  moral  condition  in  which 
there  is  a  want  of  tone  and  resisting  power,  so  that  when  sudden 
temptation  comes  upon  them  their  system  breaks  down  under  it.  It 
is  not  alone  necessary  that  a  man  should  not  do  technically  wrong. 
You  are  not  safe  when  you  simply  keep  your  feet  from  known  sins. 
No  man  is  safe  who  does  not  keep  his  heart  as  in  the  fear  of  God.  A 
man  must  abhor  wickedness.  He  must  love  that  which  is  right.  In 
this  temperament,  if  I  may  so  say,  of  the  soul  there  is  safety ;  but 
there  are  ten  thousand  flitting  pleasures,  ten  thousand  associations,  ten 
thousand  acts  in  the  life  of  young  men  and  maidens,  which,  though 
they  are  not  ^vl•ong  in  themselves,  have  a  tendency  to  drag  men  down 
lower  and  lower,  and  more  and  more  weaken  their  resisting  power  and 
prepare  them  for  the  attack  of  evil  when  it  comes  by-aud-by.    And  one 


420  THE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERINGt  WITH  SIN. 

reason  why  so  many  fall  so  quickly  and  so  completely  when  the  stress 
of  temptation  overtakes  them,  is  that  they  have  been  gradually  and 
imperceptibly  brought  into  a  condition  in  which  they  were  predisposed 
to  corruption  under  evil  influences.  Their  final  destruction  is  the 
legitimate  result  of  the  way  in  which  they  have  been  tampering  with 
themselves. 

People  say,  "  Is  it  wrong  for  a  man  to  read  any  books  he  chooses,  if 
he  never  allows  himself  to  go  wrong  %  There  are  books,  of  course,  that 
I  should  not  want  to  read  in  my  family,  nor  in  the  presence  of  ladies  ; 
but  they  are  extremely  entertaining  and  I  read  them ;  and  I  do  not 
think  that  there  is  any  danger  in  it  for  me.  Why  not  read  all  books 
and  see  all  sorts  of  pictures  and  places  ?"  Because  no  man  can  render 
himself  familiar  with  such  things,  even  out  of  curiosity,  without  marring 
his  purity,  without  dulling  his  sensibility,  without  lowering  the  tone  of 
his  resisting  power,  in  which  is  his  safety.  I  do  not  care  who  you  are, 
if  you  acquaint  yom'self  with  evil  from  no  other  motive  than  curiosity, 
you  are  not  safe.  A  man  who,  as  a  teacher,  or  a  censor  in  literature, 
has  the  unpleasant  duty  imposed  upon  him  of  probing  and  exposing 
wickedness,  may  fulfill  that  duty  and  not  be  harmed,  for  the  reason 
that  he  is  acting  with  his  mind  under  the  predominant  influence  of 
benevolence  and  obligation  ;  but  when  a  man,  merely  for  the  sake  of 
gratifying  his  curiosity,  goes  into  the  midst  of  things  that  are  pervert- 
ing in  their  tendency,  he  is  taking  out  of  his  nerve  that  which  gives 
his  nerve  the  whole  of  its  preservative  power.  I  regard,  therefore,  as 
most  pernicious,  the  familiarity  which  men  have  with  bad  men  ;  with 
vulgar  courses  ;  with  low  conversation ;  with  obscene  wit  and  stories. 
Men  who  call  themselves  respectable  are  accustomed  to  listen  to  operas 
and  plays  that  are  inherently  bad,  as  portraying  the  most  loathsome 
crimes  and  vices.  There  is  many  an  opera  in  New  York  whose  central 
element  is  reeking  lust  of  the  most  detestable  and  hideous  character. 
Nothing  can  be  worse.  But  then  they  take  a  silk  string  and  wind 
about  it ;  they  cover  it  up  with  exquisite  little  airs  and  melodies  and 
scenes,  and  men  go  to  enjoy  themselves ;  and  more  and  more  they 
become  fascinated,  and  gradually  they  lose  then*  manliness.  If 
you  say  anything  to  them  on  the  subject,  they  say,  "  Why,  I  do  not 
care  for  those  things."  Ah !  can  a  person  let  those  outrageous  abom- 
inations be  dressed  up  so  exquisitely  and  dance  so  gaily  before  their 
eyes  that  they  do  not  think  they  are  wicked,  and  be  unharmed  ?  I  do 
not  believe  in  that  purity  or  that  integrity  which  can  become  so  accus- 
tomed to  prurient  sins  in  life  that  they  gently  pass  before  them  with- 
out a  revolt.  I  believe  that  as  a  true  ear  is  actually  pained  by  hideous 
discords,  not  because  the  books  or  the  philosophy  of  mu&ic  proclaims 
that  they  are  disagreeable,  but  because  they  stab  the  ear ;  so  a  pure 


TEE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERING  WITH  SIN.  421 

nature  hates  all  that  is  salacious,  not  because  custom  or  religion  says 
it  is  bad,  but  because  all  the  power  of  the  soul  feels  that  it  is  posi- 
tively abominable.  And  if  to  any  persons  they  are  not  abominable,  it 
is  because  they  have  lost  their  sensibility.  There  are  a  thousand 
things  which  men  do,  and  which  are  permitted  to  be  done  in  society, 
which  wear  away  the  enamel,  rub  off  the  bloom,  destroy  the  fresh- 
ness of  the  sensibility,  but  their  ultimate  tendency  is  not  taken  into 
account  and  men  think  they  are  not  dangerous.  There  are  a  thousand 
liberties  that  men  take  in  the  various  relations  of  life  which  are  full  of 
peril.  Little  things  they  are  ;  but  the  very  grounds  on  which  we  stand 
in  maintaining  decorous  observances  in  the  family  and  in  the  com- 
munity, are  the  grounds  on  which  we  ai'e  to  stand  in  condemning  these 
little  levities.  They  gradually  lower  the  tone  of  the  moral  feelings, 
till  by-and-by  all  resisting  power  is  gone,  so  that  when  temptation 
comes  all  is  destroyed. 

Children  should  be  taught  that  the  customs  and  observances  of 
society  which  have  relation  to  propriety  of  conduct,  are  not  founded  on 
simple  prejudice  but  are  the  results  of  wise  legislation  and  experience, 
and  that  they  stand  between  a  man  and  coiTuption. 

I  have  given  a  direction  in  respect  to  the  passions ;  but  the  same  is 
true  in  respect  to  all  the  other  great  master  influences.  A  child  is 
brought  up  wholesomely,  and  the  law  of  the  household  is  that  a  man 
ought  never  to  praise  himself  and  seek  flattery,  or  anything  of  the 
kind.  At  length  he  goes  into  society,  where  compliments  and  flat- 
teries are  exchanged,  and  where  everybody  is  fishing  for  compliments 
and  flatteries.  "  Have  you  one  for  me  ?  I  have  one  for  you."  This 
is  everywhere  going  on.  And  the  child  at  first  is  shocked.  But  after 
a  time  his  sense  of  propriety  becomes  accustomed  to  it.  And  by-and-by 
he  is  just  as  big  a  peacock  as  anybody.  And  every  single  step  from 
beginning  to  end  of  this  change  is  a  step  of  decadence  and  decline. 

The  same  is  true  of  pride.  And  the  same  is  true,  also,  of  avarice. 
A  man  may  begin  very  generously  ;  and  by  almost  imperceptibly 
minute  steps  he  may  become  a  hard-handed  curmudgeon. 

"  There  is  a  way  which  seemeth  right  unto  a  man  ;  but  the  ends  thereof 
are  death." 

There  are  very  few  people  who,  if  they^aw  the  ends  of  wrong 
courses,  would  venture  upon  them.  There  are  very  few  people  who, 
if  they  traced  the  results  of  evil-doing  to  the  end  of  life  would  indulge 
in  it. 

There  are  thousands  of  persons  whose  lives  were  nobler  in  the 
family  than  they  are  in  the  world.  There  are  thousands  of  men  who 
had  more  honor  and  principle  and  generosity  and  moral  puiity,  when 
they  left  their  father's  house,  than  they  have  ever  had  since.     Ilonop 


422  TEE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERING  WITH  SIN. 

that  man  who  has  gone  through  life  without  loss  in  real  manliness,  and 
increasing  in  moral  vigor  and  purity  all  the  way  down.  Happy  is  that 
man  who  grow?y  better  as  he  grows  oldei*.  But  how  many  are  there  of 
such  ?  Have  you  grown  better  from  your  childhood  up  ?  Do  you 
think  you  are  cleaner-minded  than  you  ever  were  before  ?  Do  you  think 
you  have  ?.  truer  conscience,  a  more  sensitive  honor  and  a  greater  ab- 
horrence of  all  that  is  mean  and  wicked  ?  Do  you  feel  that  you  have 
become  attuned  and  chorded  in  integrity  by  the  whole  eifect  of  life 
upon  you  ? 

Irreverence  is  permitted  in  the  same  way.  There  is  every  tempta- 
tion in  society  to  irreverence.  Sacred  things  are  handled  familiarly  by 
men.  There  is  such  a  disposition  to  boldness,  and  rank,  intemperate 
familiarity  which  grows  up  with  democratic  institutions,  that  neither 
the  Church,  nor  any  sacred  book,  nor  usage,  nor  thing,  nor  even  the 
name  of  God  has  any  considerable  respect  among  men. 

Men  ask  me,  "  What  is  the  harm  of  profanity  ?  When  a  man  says 
^Damn,'  he  does  not  mean  Damn.  When  a  man  says  '  Curse  it,'  of 
course  he  does  not  mean  Curse  it.  And  when  he  uses  great  oaths, 
he  does  not  really  mean  anything  bad.  There  is  no  great  harm  in 
that,  is  there  ?"  Is  there  no  harm  in  a  man's  pursuing  a  course  which 
steadily  wears  out  the  whole  sentiment  ?  Is  there  no  harm  in  reading 
books  that  lower  your  faith  or  belief  in  truth  ?  Is  there  no  harm  in 
talking  with  men  who  destroy  your  confidence  in  things  spiritual  ?  Is 
there  no  harm  in  indulging  in  expressions  with  regard  to  things  sacred, 
that  are  like  rasps,  wearing  down  the  very  surface  and  taking  off  the 
very  skin  ?  There  is  harm  in  all  the  various  modes  of  destroying  sen- 
timent and  the  root  of  veneration  and  reverence. 

Now  in  all  these  things  I  go  back  again  to  the  thought  that  in  the 
beginning  men  do  not  mean  wrong. 

When  fishermen  are  on  the  shore  looking  for  bass  and  bullfish, 
they  are  accustomed  to  chop  up  a  great  deal  of  bait  when  the  tide  is 
right,  and  let  it  float  out  as  a  kind  of  lure.  And  the  fish,  that  have  a 
kind  of  telegraphic  communication  of  their  own,  pass  the  word  round, 
*'  There  is  something  to  eat ;"  and  they  come  flocking  up  in  shoals ; 
and  one  seizes  one  morsel,  and  another  another  morsel,  and  another 
another ;  till  by-and-by  the  cunning  fisherman  puts  a  morsel  on  a  hook 
and  throws  it  out.  And  soon  some  unsuspecting  fish  comes  up  and 
takes  it,  hook  and  all,  and  presently  he  is  fioppiug  on  the  shore ! 

It  is  just  so  that  the  devil  fishes  for  men.  There  is  this  morsel 
here,  and  that  morsel  there,  which  men  take  with  impunity ;  and  they 
think  there  is  no  danger  and  wax  bold ;  and  by-and-by  they  get  hold 
of  a  morsel  with  a  hook  in  it.  It  is  not  wise  for  men  to  feed  where 
there  are  fishermen  about,  fishing  for  then-  souls  that  they  may  destroy 


TUB  DANGER  OF  TAMPEBINO  WITH  SIN.  423 

them.  Ten  thousand  things  there  are  -which  are  "  innocent  in  them- 
selves,"  as  men  say,  but  which  are  thrown  out  as  hires,  and  by  which 
multitudes  are  drawn  into  things  which  are  not  innocent.  Hence  it  is 
that  men  are  not  to  consider  themselves  safe  when  they  simply  watch 
against  specific  evils.  We  arc  to  watch  against  particular  temptations ; 
but  we  are  also  to  watch  our  inward  dispositions.  A  man  is  to  watch 
the  whole  temper  of  his  mind  and  soul.  When  be  does  this,  and  only 
then,  he  is  safe. 

It  is  declared  in  the  passage  which  I  read  in  the  opening  service, 
"  Every  man  is  tempted  when  he  is  drawn  away  of  his  own  lust  and 
enticed."     "  Then  when  lust  hath  conceived,  it  bringeth  forth  sin ;  and  sin, 
when  it  is  finished,  bringeth  forth  death." 

There  is  a  period  in  the  future,  there  is  a  coming  time,  when  the 
thing  which  at  first  seemed  so  harmless  shall  be  grown,  and  shall  bring 
forth  its  fruit,  and  shall  prove  to  be  a  monster,  and  turn  and  devour 
you.  Therefore  you  are  to  take  care  of  the  foregoing  dispositions  and 
early  states  and  stages  of  your  experience. 

I  would  to  God  that  some  prophet  could  come  with  authority,  and 
stand  in  my  place,  and  lower  his  face,  and  look  fixedly  upon  the  young 
that  are  here.  I  wish  that  at  that  young  person,  cheerful,  gay,  sweet- 
minded,  apparently  amiable  and  gentle,  but  with  a  rotten  point  of  self- 
indulgence  in  him,  which  leads  him  to  live  from  day-to-day  for  the 
present  sensation,  for  the  pleasure  of  the  present  hour,  without  regard 
to  the  benefit  of  to  morrow  or  the  next  hour — I  wish  that  at  that 
young  person  the  prophet  could  stand  and  look,  prophesying,  and 
showing  what  that  self-indulgence  will  lead  him  to  far  down  in  his 
career,  and  how  it  makes  him  accessible  to  all  those  who  can  tickle 
his  vanity,  and  renders  him  a  prey  to  every  seduction,  and  Mill  leave 
him,  by-and-by,  a  child  of  damnation.  Oh  !  thou  round  of  cheek, 
smooth  of  brow,  and  serene  of  eye,  thou  wilt  die  in  a  brothel !  "  What," 
you  say,  "  Is  thy  servant  a  dog,  that  he  should  do  this  thing  ?"  Oh  no, 
not  now — not  until  you  have  forgotten  much  of  home ;  not  until  you 
have  had  wound  around  you  the  fascinations  of  flattering  society ;  not 
until  a  thousand  influences  have  dazed  your  mind  ;  not  until  the  day 
appointed  comes.  But  then,  "  when  lust  hath  conceived,  it  tcill  bring 
forth  sin  ;  and  sin,  when  it  is  finished,  will  bring  forth  death." 

Is  it  cruel  to  say  so  ?  But  oh !  is  it  not  a  greater  cruelty  that  it 
should  be  true  ?  My  heart  is  pained  when  I  know  Avhat  is  going  on  in 
life.  Hideous  stories  come  down  to  us  of  monsters  of  mythology  that 
claimed  some  virgin  at  every  festival  to  be  given  to  its  maw ;  but  we 
sacrifice,  not  single  ones,  but  hecatombs.  And  how  cool  is  the  public 
pulse!  how  little  indignation  there  is!  IIow  many  there  have  been,, 
born  and  built  with  angelic  mould,  full  of  thought  that  might  have 
made  them  majestic  as  kings  and  tiausceudent  in  lovciinebs,  whose 


424  TEE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERIFG  WITH  SUT. 

early  steps  were  such  as  to  lower  their  moral  tone,  and  who  kept  sliding 
down  and  down  until  they  were  destroyed,  utterly  and  without  remedy. 
"  Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his  skin,  or  the  leopard  his  spots  ?  Then  may 
ye  also  do  good,  that  are  accustomed  to  do  evil." 

I  would  that  the  prophet  could  lay  his  eye  upon  some  young  men 
that  I  see,  who  are  healthy  and  stx'ong  and  noble  in  their  purposes, 
but  who  say  that  they  are  going  to  be  free  and  independent,  that  they 
are  not  going  to  be  bound  by  superstitious  precedents.  Wine  bad  ? 
Not  to  them.  Tippling  bad  ?  "  Yes,  to  fools,  but  not  to  young  men  of 
ray  spkit."  Drinking  in  a  social  way  bad  ?  They  scorn  the  idea  that 
they  need  to  bind  themselves  with  a  pledge,  or  to  turn  out  of  their 
way  to  insure  them  against  becoming  drunkards.  Oh  Prophet !  where 
art  thou  ?  Look  upon  these  young  men,  and  say  to  them,  "  I  see  you 
early  overthrown ;  I  see  you  early  death-struck ;  I  see  you  dying  in 
disgi-ace ;  I  see  you  lying  in  a  diainkard's  grave."  They  would  say, 
"  Is  thy  servant  a  dog,  that  these  things  should  be  true  of  him  ?"  Yes, 
you  are  a  dog,  of  whom  just  these  things  are  true.  If  you  are  not 
afraid  ;  if  your  hand  is  reached  out  for  the  cup  when  it  is  red  and  you 
have  no  concern  ;  if  you  scorn  the  warning  which  is  afforded  by  ten 
thousand  instances  of  men  who  are  just  as  good  as  you,  and  just  as 
strong  as  you  are,  but  who  tampered  with  the  cup  and  were  destroyed, 
it  requires  no  prophet  to  foretell  the  issue.  I  can  myself  tell  what  the 
end  shall  be.  Here  are  thousands  and  thousands,  and  some  that  I  know, 
who  are  dying  now  from  this  very  cause.  Their  life  looked  as  fan-  as 
yours ;  their  hopes  were  as  bright  as  yours ;  they  were  as  certain  of 
then*  power  to  retrace  theii'  steps  in  time  to  save  themselves  as  you  are ; 
and  yet  they  have  fallen  and  are  perishing.  Oh  !  that  men  would  pon- 
der these  things. 

I  I  behold  men  of  generous  impulses  starting  in  life  on  certain 
courses ;  and  I  know  what  the  end  will  be.  I  see  men  sacrificing  them- 
selves for  gain.  I  see  men  giving  their  time  for  mere  money.  They 
do  not  care  for  the  welfare  of  the  community.  They  are  not  interested 
in  charitable  enterprises.  They  have  no  sympathy  for  the  unfortunate 
classes.  And  yet  they  are  men  who,  before  they  were  attacked  by  the 
delirium  of  avarice,  had  generous  and  noble  natures.  I  know  what 
will  become  of  them.  They  grow  up  more  and  more  avaricious  and 
less  and  less  manly.  As  then-  riches  increase,  then-  manhood  dies  out. 
And  I  see  them  forsaking,  one  after  another,  their  old  companions  that 
are  not  profitable.  I  see  that  as  they  pile  up  treasure,  their  gener- 
osity diminishes.  There  is  a  fever  of  gain  which  a  man  who  is  inspu'ed 
to  watch  can  discern.  And  I  see  them  at  last,  lying  back  in  their  pon- 
dering moments,  and  turning  over  and  over  their  money.  Night  and 
day  they  live  for  money.     And  every  other  thing  is  destroyed  in  them 


THE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERING  WITH  SIN,  425 

except  the  love  of  gain.  They  are  utterly  carried  away  by  avance.  If 
I  liad  told  them  when  they  began,  that  they  were  coming  to  this,  they 
Mould  have  said,  *'  Is  thy  servant  a  dogl"  And  yet,  those  very  6teps 
which  they  were  then  taking  were  steps  by  which  they  would  inevit- 
ably become  misers. 

And  so  of  every  other  wrong  course — for  time  fails  me,  and  I  can 
not  carry  out  in  detail  any  further,  the  thoughts  which  are  suggested 
by  this  general  history. 

We  are  all  of  us  either  advancing  from  strength  to  strength  to  ap- 
pear before  God,  or  we  are,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  drifting  fur- 
ther and  further  from  the  early  period  of  innocence  ;  from  the  early 
honor;  from  the  early  faith.  AVe  are  drawing  near  to  the  heavenly 
land;  but  oh!  with  what  freight  do  we  go?  What  have  we  in  the 
world?  What  has  been  our  life?  Wq  had  a  Mr  start,  most  of  us  ;  how 
have  we  imj)roved  our  opportunities  ?  There  are  some  who  had  not  a 
fair  start.  There  are  some  who  had  drunken  parents.  I  have  in  my 
luind  now  two  men  who  were  the  children  of  worthless  parents,  but 
who  worked  upon  the  farm  to  support  themselves  and  earned  their 
way  through  college ;  and  now  both  stand  high  in  the  Christian  minis- 
try. And  I  know  men  who  were  born  of  Christian  parents,  who  were 
the  children  of  Christian  ministers,  and  who  had  everything  to  help 
them,  both  in  regard  to  organization  and  precept,  during  their  child- 
hood, but  who  have  worked  their  way  straight  down,  until  they  are 
miserable  wrecks  and  outcasts.  But,  thank  God !  if  there  are  persons 
that  go  away  from  the  Christian  instruction  of  their  childhood,  there 
are  also  persons  who  do  not.  I  have  known  many  persons  who,  though 
they  came  out  of  the  battle  scarred,  nevertheless  grew  better  as  they 
grew  older.     Are  you  growing  better  as  you  grow  older  ? 

Fellow  citizens,  men,  brethren,  is  not  this  practical  business  ?  The 
year  is  drawing  to  an  end.  You  are  going  fast  to  your  account.  I  see 
in  many  of  you  the  signs  of  decay.  I  bear  them  myself.  I  am  no 
longer  a  young  man  ;  and  you,  many  of  you,  have  passed  your  youth. 
Do  you  ever  take  an  account,  an  inventory  with  yourself  ?  Do  you 
ever  say,  "  What  am  I?  How  do  I  compare  with  what  I  used  to  be? 
Am  I  harder,  or  more  generous?  Am  I  truer,  or  am  I  less  scruinilous? 
Have  I  divine  wisdom,  or  have  I  sneering,  worldly  wisdom  ?"  Are  you 
i  nearer  to  the  spirit  of  Christ  than  you  used  to  be  ?  Are  you  nearer  to 
the  spirit  of  God  ?  Are  you  better  prepared  for  the  society  of  angela 
than  you  were  half  a  score  of  years  ago  ?  Does  the  world  hold  you 
less  tenaciously  than  it  did?  Do  you  feel  prepared  to  let  go,  if  it  be 
the  will  of  God,  this  year  ?  Can  you  say,  when  you  meet  your  God, 
not,  "I  am  spotless" — oh,  no;  but,  "I  love,  I  honor,  I  adore  Thee 
above  all,  as  the  Chief  among  ten  thousand  aud  the  one  altogether 


426  THE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERINO  WITH  SIN. 

lovely  ?"  Is  the  language  of  reverence  and  love  possible  to  your  life  ? 
How  have  you  been  living  ?  How  are  you  living  ?  Will  you  not  take 
this  home  to  yourself  to-night,  and  make  inquisition  into  yourself  ? 
You  know  better  than  anybody  else  what  secret  thoughts  and  feelings 
you  have  cherished,  and  what  secret  sins  you  have  committed.  You 
know  what  your  actions  have  been,  and  what  the  motives  of  those  ac- 
tions have  been ;  and  you  can  take  a  general  account  of  your  life.  And 
why  not  be  faithful  to  yourselves  ?  Is  there  any  use  of  cheating  your- 
selves "?  I  can  understand  how  a  bad  accountant  might  make  up  a  false 
account  to  cheat  his  employers ;  but  I  cannot  understand  how  a  mer- 
chant could  make  up  a  false  account  to  cheat  himself  And  will  you 
make  up  your  moral  account  so  as  to  blind  your  eyes  and  hoodwink 
yourselves,  and  stagger  on  for  years,  and  at  last  plunge  into  the  other 
world  all  unprepared  to  meet  your  Judge  and  the  judgment  ? 

It  is  not  enough  to  say,  "  Is  thy  servant  a  dog,  that  he  should  do 
these  things  ?"  Ah  !  many  and  many  a  man  has  done  everything  that 
he  abhorred  in  the  beginning.  Many  and  many  a  man  has  fallen  upon 
every  evil  that  he  di-eaded  in  the  beginning.  Many  and  many  a  man 
has  made  shipwreck  of  faith,  though  at  first  he  staited  for  the  other 
thing.  I  beseech  of  you  take  heed.  Read  the  lessons  that  are  around 
about  you.  Watch  men  and  see  what  their  lives  are.  Listen  to  the 
testimony  of  God's  word.  Call  God  to  your  side,  and  yield  yourself 
to  his  will.  By  prayer,  and  by  faith,  and  by  reliance  upon  the  power 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  live  so  that  at  whatever  hour  the  Son  of  Man  may 
come,  he  shall  find  you  right  and  willing  to  depart  and  be  with  Chi'lst, 
which  is  better  than  life. 


TEE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERING  WITH  SIN.  427 

PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

TVe  bnmble  ourselves  before  thee,  our  Father.  We  draw  near  to  thee  in 
the  spirit  of  cliildren:  and  j'et  of  cliildren  that  have  gone  wrong.  We  are 
conscious  of  our  sins.  Wc  are  conscious  that  we  liave  sinned  against  our 
own  light  and  knowledge.  Thou  hast  had  occasion  to  be  offended  with  us. 
Thou  mightest  long  ago  have  been  discouraged  and  cast  us  oflF.  It  is  the 
nature  of  thy  love  to  endure.  Thou  art  long-suffering,  patient,  slow  to  anger, 
quick  to  relent.  Thy  nature  is  healing  to  sin,  and  none  shall  open  their 
hearts  to  let  in  thine  influence  and  go  uncleansed.  The  fire  of  thy  Spirit 
shall  burn  up  the  dross.  The  purity  of  thy  soul  shall  cleanse  the  impurity 
of  ours.  Tlie  truth  of  thy  thought  shall  straighten  out  the  crookedness,  the 
lies,  the  falsity,  in  us.  Thou  wilt  pour  through  the  soul  those  tides  of  the 
divine  Spirit  that  shall  cleanse  it ;  and  by  thy  power  we  shall  be  regenerated, 
ennobled,  lifted  up  into  the  likeness  of  God.  And  into  our  souls  breathe 
the  filial  spirit,  so  that  we  shall  call  out  in  every  hour,  in  every  spontaneous 
moment,  '"Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven." 

We  thank  thee  for  all  thy  bounty  which  there  is  in  the  fatherhood  of 
God.  Oh  1  what  comfort  we  have  plucked  from  it  already  !  It  has  reached 
above  our  heads  as  a  vine  that  grew  by  diminution ;  for  all  we  have  taken 
of  thine  over-arching  care  has  but  caused  it  to  put  forth  new  clusters.  Thou 
art  giving  without  diminishing  the  supply.  Oh  !  what  consolation  have  we 
had  whed  we  fled  from  the  terror  of  thy  law;  when  we  fled  from  the  relent- 
less aspects  of  nature,  and  found  the  warmth  and  sympathy  of  thy  paternal 
heart !  Thou  art  good.  Thou  art  not  only  good  but  thou  art  merciful. 
How  gentle  are  thy  ways  towards  us  1  Grant  that  thy  goodness  and  thy 
gentleness  may  win  us  more  than  terror  and  more  than  necessity.  Grant 
that  our  hearts,  moved  by  honor  and  by  duty  and  by  love,  may  turn  unto 
thee  and  to  thy  ways.  May  we  desire  thy  favor  more  than  all  other  things. 
Thou  knowest  the  battle  of  every  one.  Thou  knowest  the  temptation  that 
to  every  one  is  most  potent.  Thou  knowest  where  are  our  weaknesses  and 
what  are  our  infirmities.  Thou  dost  behold  the  doubtful  conflict.  Thou 
hast  watched  over  us  with  more  true  tender  watching  and  care  than  ever  a 
mother  watched  over  a  child.  We  need  not  tell  thee  who  we  are.  We  need 
not  tell  thee  what  we  are. 

Lord  Jesus !  but  for  thy  grace,  we  should  have  perished ;  and  by  thy 
grace  we  are  what  we  are  in  good.  Yet  continue  thy  good  to  us.  In- 
spire us  and  strengthen  us  and  lift  us  up  as  things  that  are  mighty  to  the 
destruction  of  pride  and  selfishness  and  appetite  and  every  evil  way.  Turn 
us  to  thyself.  Be  school-master  to  us  in  love.  Discipline  us.  Instruct  us.  Guide 
US  to  the  knowledge  of  all  that  is  good ;  and  may  our  inclination  follow  our 
knowledge.  May  we  have  the  way  of  righteousness.  And,  we  beseech  of 
thee,  be  near  to  those  who  are  yet  too  weak  to  walk,  and  to  all  that  are  cast 
down  and  cannot  rise  up,  and  to  all  that  are  taken  captive  by  sin  and  can- 
not release  themselves,  and  to  all  that  are  snared,  and  to  all  that  are  slumber- 
ing, being  stupefied  by  sin.  O  thou  Healer  I  draw  near.  Thou  Deliverer  I 
appear  for  the  rescue  of  souls  that  are  in  peril.  There  are  many  who  make 
feeble  cry  to  thee,  not  because  they  deserve  aught,  but  because  it  is  thy 
heart's  delight  to  do  good,  that  they  have  faith  in  thee.  And  we  beseech 
of  thee  that  thou  wilt  help  those  who  seek  to  help  others.  Give  them  wis- 
dom. Inspire  them  with  prudence.  Give  them  might  and  power  upon  the 
hearts  of  their  fellows.  May  all  that  seek  to  lead  men  in  Godly  ways  be 
themselves  lead  by  God.  May  those  who  seek  to  injure  men,  to  carry  them 
down,  and  to  make  mischief  of  happiness,  be  met  with  rebuke,  and  over- 
thrown by  the  breath  of  thy  mouth  and  the  brightness  of  thy  coming. 

Oh  I  hasten  that  day  when  all  men  shall  learn  the  lore  of  love,  llastea 
that  day  when  thy  Spirit  shall  be  breathed  into  all  thy  churches,  and  through 
thy  churches  into  all  the  community  ;  when  laws  and  govemmeut,  shall  be 


428  THE  DANGER  OF  TAMPERING  WITH  SIN. 

founded  and  administered  in  rigMeousness ;  when  all  the  institutions  of 
society  shall  be  filled  with  the  spirit  of  heaven.  Grant  that  that  blessed 
day  of  prediction  may  come  when  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  flee  away, 
when  cruelty  shall  cease,  when  superstition  and  ignorance  shall  depart, 
and  when  the  earth  shall  be  filled  with  the  glory  of  the  Lord  as  the  waters 
fill  the  sea.  Oh !  hasten  that  long-delaying  day.  Grant  that  those  who 
labor  for  it  and  die  without  the  sight,  giving  place  to  other  generations 
that  labor  and  die  again  without  the  sight,  and  all  of  us  may  behold  it,  if 
not  upon  these  shores,  yet  in  our  Father's  kingdom.  For  this  world  is 
thine  own.  Oh  Jesus !  thou  hast  redeemed  it  by  thy  precious  blood.  Thou 
shalt  win  it  through  the  dark  ages.  Thou  art  the  Traveler  unknown,  seek- 
ing it.  Thou  shalt  find  it.  Thou  shalt  cleanse  it.  Thou  shalt  ordain  purity 
and  justice  and  truth  and  love.     And  all  the  world  shall  see  thy  salvation. 

Make  haste,  then.  Consummate  thy  promises.  FlilfiU  the  blessedness  of 
thine  intent.     Bring  in  on  this  earth  all  thy  mighty  power. 

And  to  the  Father,  the  Son  and  the  Spirit  shall  be  praise  everlasting. 
Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  bless  the  word  of  instruc- 
tion which  we  have  endeavored  to  give.  May  all  those  who  are  in  the 
morning  of  life  take  heed  to  their  courses.  May  all  those  upon  whom  thou 
hast  placed  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day  watch  warily,  knowing  whose 
adversaries  abound  on  every  side.  May  those  who  have  passed  the  years  of 
their  lives,  and  are  standing  in  their  autumn  days,  more  than  ever  see  that 
they  are  prepared  to  meet  their  God.  May  there  be  no  more  delay.  May 
there  be  no  more  excuses.  May  men  no  more  deny  their  duty,  or  turn  away 
from  their  Saviour.  Lift  up  thy  cross,  and  make  it  glow  before  the  eyes  of 
every  one.  And  may  there  be  many  who  shall  be  won  to  it,  and  subdued 
by  it,  to  the  honor  of  thy  name,  through  Jesus  Christ  ovu:  Redeemer.    Amen. 


XXV. 

The  Christian  Life  a  New  Life. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  A  NE¥  LIFE. 


I  have  selected  for  the  theme  of  discourse,  this  evening,  the  passage 
of  Scripture  which  I  read  in  the  opening  service,  and  which  is  contained 
in  the  forepart  of  the  third  chapter  of  John's  Gospel.  It  is  the  account 
of  the  interview  of  Nicodemus  with  our  Saviour.  I  select  it  because, 
while  it  has  been  ten  thousand  times  discoursed  upon,  and  in  ways 
most  edifying,  there  are  certain  tendencies  existing  in  our  time,  and 
developing  themselves  in  the  most  interesting  manner,  which  can  be 
made  in  no  way  so  beneficially  effective,  I  apprehend,  as  by  holding  up 
the  truth  which  was  made  known  by  our  Saviour  to  Nicodemus  in 
this  passage. 

The  whole  interview  and  the  whole  thought  of  the  Saviour  become 
very  interesting  when  they  are  looked  at  in  connection  with  the  char- 
acter of  this  man. 

The  Pharisees  were  not  very  good ;  but  they  were  the  best  men 
to  be  found  at  that  time.  They  were  the  most  patriotic  of  the 
Jews.  They  were  the  most  learned  and  intellectual  class.  They  were 
the  most  reliijious.  And  it  does  not  alter  the  fact  of  their  endeavoiins: 
to  do  well,  that  they  had  fallen  upon  a  wrong  method,  and  that  it  was 
a  method  which  exhausted  itself  in  benefit,  and  then  led  them  into 
positive  mischief 

After  the  Jews  had  been  carried  to  Babylon  and  scattered,  their 
services  were  discontinued,  and  their  law  was  forgotten,  and  inter- 
marriages were  gradually  being  formed ;  and  the  bad  example  work- 
ing, little  by  little,  little  by  little,  it  became  evident  to  the  heads  of  the 
nation  that  unless  something  were  done  they  would  perish,  and  the 
Jews  that  were  remaining  from  Judea  would  be,  as  the  ten  tribes  had 
been,  mixed  and  lost  among  the  nations  of  the  earth.  Therefore  it  was 
that  a  class  of  men  sprang  up  among  them  who  undertook  to  keep 
the  Jews  to  theii*  national  faith,  to  keep  the  children  in  memory  of 
their  history,  to  stir  up,  by  every  means  in  their  power,  the  remem- 
brance of  the  land  from  which  they  had  been  exported,  and  to  keep 
alive  all  those  historic  circumstances  which  should  make  tlieni  proud 
of  their  history,  and  proud  of  themselves,  and,  more  than  that,  pievent 
their  forgetting  the  peculiar  economy  under  which  they  had  been  reared. 

SiNKAV  EvF.MNo,  Joly  10,  1670.  Lkbson:  Jko.  III.,  1-15.  HYMNS  (rijrmouth  Colleotion.) 
N08.  15,  666,  lv27a 


430  TEE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  A  NEW  LIFE. 

These  men  undertook  to  bring  out,  and  to  expound,  the  whole  Mosaic 
ritual.  And,  as  times  had  changed,  and  then*  condition  was  very  dif- 
ferent from  what  it  had  been  in  their  own  land,  there  sprang  up  in- 
numerable questions  which  were  not  provided  for  in  the  text — questions 
of  casuistry;  questions  relating  to  adjustments  of  duty;  a  thousand 
nice  questions.  These  questions  were  answered  according  to  the  best 
light  of  these  men.  And  the  Pharisee  was  the  man  who  undertook  to 
maintain,  among  the  Jews,  in  their  dispersion  and  captivity,  the  spirit 
of  Judaism,  and  the  spirit  of  the  Jewish  religion.  And  when  the  Jews 
came  back  again  to  Jerusalem,  that  which  had  been  so  useful  abroad 
was  still  continued  at  home.  The  Pharisees,  although  never  separated 
as  a  sect,  and  organized  as  our  sects  are  in  the  Christian  religion  (the 
term  Pharisee  being  rather  the  name  of  a  school  of  thought,  or  of  a 
certain  class  of  men  with  peculiar  tendencies),  went  on  with  this  same 
work.  They  were  men  who  undertook  to  live  a  righteous  life  accord- 
ing to  the  best  light  they  could  obtain  from  their  own  scriptures,  to 
gether  with  the  coordinate  reasoning  of  all  the  learned  men  of  their 
1  nation.  They  were  extremely  scrupulous,  therefore,  in  all  those  points 
of  morality  which  were  pointed  out  in  theii'  Scripture.  But  as  pride, 
and  vanity,  and  self-seeking,  and  various  other  moral  evils,  had  no  spe- 
cial prominence  in  the  Mosaic  institutes,  so  they  had  very  little  notice 
at  the  hand  of  the  Pharisee.  While  he  was  rigorously  pure,  ac- 
cording to  the  Mosaic  law  of  purity ;  while  he  neglected  no  known 
duty ;  while  he  followed  the  way  of  righteousness  according  to  the 
best  interpretation  that  he  had  ;  he  was  yet  spiritually  blind ;  and  he 
became  proud,  and  vain,  and  hard,  and  unsympathetic,  and  unloving, 
rigorous  for  duty,  and  without  mercy.  And  it  was  against  these  ele- 
ments that  our  Master  inveighed  most  severely.  But  it  cannot  be  de- 
nied that  among  the  Pharisees  were  specimens  of  the  best  natures  and 
the  best  characters  that  were  found  in  the  Savioui-'s  time. 

So,  then,  if  you  can  select  from  them  one  of  the  best  of  the  Phari- 
sees, who  represents  the  highest  estate  to  which  the  moral  nature  had 
risen  among  the  Jews  (and  the  Jews  were  preeminently  higher  than 
any  other  nation  on  the  globe,  morally,)  and  then  listen  to  the  instruc- 
I  tion  which  Christ  gives  him,  you  will  be  able  to  come  nearer  to  the 
ideal  of  your  Master  than  in  any  other  way.  This  we  have  in  the 
case  of  Nicodemus. 

He  was  a  Pharisee  ;  and  the  whole  history  shows  that  he  was  one 
of  the  noblest  of  the  Pharisees  ;  that  he  had  a  hunger  of  soul ;  that 
he  was  not  satisfied  with  the  external  righteousness  which  he  had  at- 
tained. The  teachings  of  Christ  had  touched  a  secret  feeling  in  him, 
and  opened  a  desire  for  something  more. 

He  came  to  Christ  by  night — it  has  been  supposed  from  cowardice. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  A  NEW  LIFE.  431 

I  think  not.  I  regard  Nicodemus  as  one  of  those  men  who  are  timid 
from  excessive  conscientiousness ;  who  are  not  demonstrative ;  who  are 
very  thoughtful  and  quiet ;  who  are  very  desirous  to  know  what  is 
right,  and  to  do  what  is  right,  but  who  are  distrustful  of  themselves, 
and  therefore  are  mild,  moderate,  secluded,  even.  He  came  by  night, 
not  because  he  was  afraid,  but  because  it  comported  with  that  kind  of 
inquisitive,  conscientious,  mild  nature  of  his.  Afterwards,  circumstances 
showed  that  he  was  far  from  cowardly.  When  he  sat  in  the  council, 
r  and  they  were  to  condemn  Christ,  he  spoke  out  before  the  others,  and 
said,  "  Doth  our  law  condemn  any  man  before  he  be  heard  ?"  And  t» 
afterwards,  when,  to  everybody  else,  the  whole  mission  of  Christ 
seemed  to  have  been  exploded,  and  Christ  had  been  crucified,  and 
i  there  was  no  friend  to  stand  near  him ;  when  John  was  not  thei'e,  and 
bold  Peter  had  fled,  and  every  one  of  the  disciples  that  were  nourished 
in  Christ's  bosom  ha^  gone — then  this  man  it  was,  whom  men  are 
pleased  to  call  "  timid,"  and  to  accuse  of  sneaking  to  Christ  by  night 
to  avoid  responsibility — he  it  was,  that,  with  Joseph  of  Arimathea, 
dared  to  go  before  the  Government,  and  risk  eveiy thing,  for  a  cause 
that  had  failed,  and  gone  out  of  sight,  and  demand  the  body  of  the 
Saviour,  and  give  it  an  honorable  burial.i  It  is  a  shame  to  asperse  the 
name  of  Nicodemus  with  the  charge  of  moral  cowardice.  No,  he 
went  to  Christ  by  night  because  he  was  a  ruler,  and  he  did  not  wish 
all  the  men  in  the  body  to  which  he  belonged  to  be  picking  at  him. 
He  was  not  yet  prepared  to  take  a  stand.  He  wanted  a  conference 
with  Christ ;  he  wanted  instruction  ;  he  wanted  to  go  to  him  when  he 
was  not  thronged — when  he  was  at  leisure ;  he  wanted  few  or  no  spec- 
tators ;  and  he  did  just  what  you  or  I  would  have  done.  He  went  by 
night  to  the  Saviour,  in  order  to  have  a  long  communion  with  him. 

Now  John,  and  perhaps  one  or  two  disciples  besides,  were  present 
whilst  this  conversation  between  Christ  and  Nicoderaus  was  going  on ; 
and  we  should  have  expected  that  our  Saviour  would  say  to  him^ 
"You  are  on  the  right  path;  and  you  are  among  the  few  that  I  have 
met  of  the  Jews  who  have  a  spiiitual  insight.  You  have  moral  ear- 
nestness. Go  on.  Develop.  Biing  forth  to  the  higlier  form  that 
which  is  already  in  you."  But  no ;  singling  out  this  best  one  of  all 
the  men  of  that  time,  Christ,  in  this  conference,  without  any  preface^ 
without  any  qualification,  said : 

"Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God." 

And  when  Nicodemus  could  not  understand  it,  Christ  went  further^ 
and  told  him  that  it  was  not  the  birth  of  the  flesh,  or  physical  birth^ 
that  he  was  speaking  of     Said  he : 

"  That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh;  and  that  which  is  bom  of  the-        ^; 
Spirit  is  spirit."  l  v       L    i  t  ^^ 

^^  rr 


332  TEE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  A  NEW  LIFE. 

r/ 

(^  ^  /  In  other  words,  he  Hfted  upon  his  mind  the  ideal  of  a  character 
formed,  not  by  the  evolution  of  the  natural  forces,  looking  at  nature  in 
its  lower  sphere,  in  this  material  world,  in  this  physical  globe.  He  de- 
clared to  him  that  the  Divine  conception  of  character  is  that  it  should 
come  into  commerce  with  God ;  that  there  should  be  an  elapse  of  the 
Spirit  upon  the  soul ;  that  the  soul,  as  it  were,  should,  by  that  Divine 
influence,  by  that  creative,  penetrative  power  from  on  high,  be  lifted 
up  into  a  realm  and  into  experiences  which  do  not  belong  to  the  natural 
man,  which  are  never  developed  by  the  force  of  human  society,  and  its 
educated  organizations,  which  are  never  evolved  by  philosophy,  which 
never  come  through  natural  agencies,  but  which  spring  from  the  direct 
power  of  the  Spirit  of  God  acting  upon  the  soul  of  man.  That  is  the 
declaration  of  Christ. 
\  See  how  John  insists  on  the  same  thought  in  the  twelfth  and  thir- 

teenth verses  of  the  first  chapter  of  this  Gospel : 

"  He  came  unto  his  own  [that  is,  to  the  Jews,  his  own  nation  and  peo- 
\  pie],  and  his  own  received  him  not.  But  as  many  as  received  him,  to  them 
*  gave  he  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God." 

It  is  not  developing  a  latent  power.  It  is  not  bringing  out  the  con- 
stitutional tendency,  and  guiding  it. 

"  To  them  gave  he  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God." 
It  is  a  new  nature,  a  new  dignity,  a  new  level,  a  new  plane,  a  new 
sphere,  into  which  human  nature  is  to  be  exalted  by  the  power  of  God. 
"  Which  were  born,  not  of  blood,  nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the 
will  of  man,  but  of  God." 

It  is  becoming  the  son  of  God  by  the  du'ect  coming  of  the  power 

^rom  on  high.     Men  come  to  it,  not  by  birth  of  blood — that  is,  not  by 

hereditary  tendencies ;  not  by  the  will  of  man — that  is,  not  by  the 

Uiforce  of  mind  applied  to  then-  education ;  but  by  the  power  of  God. 

,  V     That  is  the  ideal  of  character  which  is  developed  in  this  conversa^ 

'    tion  of  Christ  with  Nicodemus.     And  it  is  all  the  more  fearful  because 

Nicodemus  was  so  good  a  man.    He  was  not  "a  miserable  idolator.   He 

was  not  a  heretic.     He  was  not  a  Sadducee — that  is,  a  liberalist.     A 

Sadducee  was  a  man  who  did  not  believe  under  the  pretense  of  sticking 

^^^        "to  the  whole  letter  of  the  law ;  and  in  the  interpretations  which  the 

y    /       ^     Pharisee  gave,  he  excluded  pretty  much  all  the  light  that  had  been 

Y  h  \      -evolved  in  the  whole  history  of  the  Jewish  people.     He  did  not  be- 

^        J^     lieve  in  immortality,  nor  in  the  resuiTcction  of  the  dead.     He  was  a 

i  ^    S"         man  of  pleasure.     He  was  a  gentleman,  easy-going  and  refined,  for  his 

''    /      \     ,own  sake,  and  enjoying  life  as  best  he  could,  keeping  peace  with  the 

\  xeigning,  ruling  bodies,  both  in  things  temporal  and  in  things  spuitual. 

/  y       ^        We  are  well  acquainted  with  this  class  of  people.     We  have  ever 

I^n/  ;so  many  of  them.     They  preach  and  pray.     We  have  churches  full  of 

them.     We  have  saints  made  out  of  them.     The  Sadducees  are  not 


THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  A  NEW  LIFE.  433 

dead,  nor  the  Pharisees  either.     All  these  classes  of  men  we  have,  to 
help  us  study  the  histories. 

Now,  if  Nicodemus  had  been  one  of  the  Sadducees,  our  Master's  ex- 
hortation would  not  have  seemed  so  remarkable  ;  but  to  take  a  Phari- 
see, who  was  rigorous  in  every  external  duty — that  is,  in  what  we 
should  call  moralities  ;  to  take  one  out  of  the  Pharisees  who  was  so 
much  more  honorable  than  the  mere  specialists ;  to  take  a  man  who 
was  as  strict  as  Nicodemus  was,  and  to  say  to  him,  "  You  must  be  born 
again  " — this  was  indeed  surprising.  Christ  vu-tually  says  of  the  vir- 
tues of  Nicodemus,  that  all  this  is  not  good  for  nothing,  but  is  only 
the  foregoing  steps,  the  preparation,  of  that  to  which  God's  spirit  would 
lead  him.  The  true  ideal  is  that  to  which  you  are  to  come,  not  by 
keeping  the  law,  not  by  the  force  of  your  own  will,  not  by  the  melior- 
ating influence  of  all  the  social  sympathies  which  surround  you, 
but  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  That  which,  when  your  soul  is 
inspired  and  lifted  into  the  sympathy  and  presence  of  the  divine  Heart 
itself,  is  produced  in  you — that  is  the  manhood,  that  is  the  nature, 
which  you  ai"e  to  seek.     For,""^  \     ■ 

"  Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God."  — 

Consider,  in  this  light,  the  question  of  moralities — a  question  very 
much  debated.  Ai'e  we  to  teach  that  a  man  is  to  substitute  this,  if  I 
may  so  say,  second  nature,  which  is  born  in  him  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
for  ordinary  morality  ?  Oh  no  ;  no  man  ever  can  become  spiritual 
who  is  immoral,  or  unmoral.  That  which  is  born  in  us  by  the  power 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  presupposes  the  fulfillment  of  all  natural  laws. 
It  presupposes  obedience  to  all  those  things  which  belong  to  the  order 
of  society,  and  to  the  lower  constitution  which  men  are  in,  so  far  as  it 
goes.  These  moralities  are  not  only  not  despicable,  but  indispensa- 
ble. They  bear  the  same  relation  to  the  after  life  which  the  basilar 
leaves  of  a  plant  bear  to  its  blossoming.  We  do  not  say,  before  the  lily 
throws  out  its  blossoming  stalk,  that  the  leaves  of  the  lily  are  good  for 
nothing  ;  and  yet,  who  would  be  put  off  with  the  blades  of  a  lily  and 
not  with  the  blossom  ?  Who  would  be  put  off  with  the  ground  leaves 
of  a  ranunculus,  and  not  with  the  cluster  of  flowere  which  is  the  ulti- 
mate, highest  form  to  which  it  can  be  brought  by  the  finer  forces  of 
light  and  heat  f 

And  so  in  human  life,  all  the  great  duties  which  belong  to  the  con- 
stitution of  its  family  and  of  the  state  are  prerequisites.  They  come 
along  in  the  same  operation.  They  do  not,  however,  reach  to  that  con- 
dition which  we  call  piety,  or  to  that  condition  which  Christ  would 
bring  us  to  by  the  new  birth. 

Wliat  is  it  worth,  then?  Well,  it  is  worth  just  what  it  is  worth — 
no  more,  and  no  less.     The  Indian,  in  his  wigwam,  knows  a  great 


434  THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  A  NEW  LIFE. 

many  things ;  but  he  is  not  a  civilized  man.  And  suppose  you  should 
put  this  question,  "  What  is  all  that  I  do  know  worth,  if  this  is  not 
civilization?  If  lam  brought  out  of  this  state,  am  I  to  leave  all  these 
things,  and  count  them  as  nothing  V  Certainly  he  is  not.  Relative 
to  his  condition  they  are  unspeakably  important ;  but  as  compared 
with  a  higher  development  they  are  of  very  little  value.  That  is  to 
say,  if  he  should  become  refined  and  noble  in  civilized  life,  he  would 
look  back  with  pity  upon  the  condition  that  he  was  in  when  these  were 
the  best  things  he  had,  not  because  they  were  in  and  of  themselves  bad, 
but  because  he  was  so  far  from  having  attained,  by  growth  and  devel- 
opment, that  which  was  possible  to  him. 

When  a  man  begins  to  wiite,  his  letters  are  crooked  enough.  His 
sentences  run  up  hill  and  down  hill  at  a  great  rate.  His  writing  is  a 
hideous  scrawl.  But  then,  shall  we  say  to  the  child,  "  It  is  good  for 
nothing?"  No.  It  is  good  to  begin  with ;  and  it  is  good  to  leave  be- 
hind just  as  quick  as  he  can  go  on  unto  perfection.  You  must  creep 
before  you  can  walk.  You  must  go  through  the  lower  forms  before 
you  can  come  to  the  higher  forms.  Moralities  belong  to  the  lower 
life,  and  are  important;  but  they  are  not  to  be  confounded  with  the 
higher  developments  of  life.  Although  they  may  stand  in  the  order  of 
time,  and  in  the  order  of  Divine  Providence,  and  in  the  order  of  grace, 
as  intimately  connected  with  them,  as  pre-requisite  to  them,  and  as,  in 
some  sense,  ministering  to  them ;  yet,  after  all,  they  are  not  the  thing 
that  the  soul  needs. 

From  the  urgency  with  which  we  preach  the  necessity  of  a  dis- 
tinctively Christian  disposition,  the  new  life,  and  the  new  birth,  men 
get  the  impression  that  we  undervalue  truth,  and  honor,  and  justice, 
and  godliness,  and  fidelity.  No,  we  do  not ;  you  o^;er-value  them.  We 
believe  them  to  be  worth  just  as  much  as  you  do.  Nay,  we  believe 
them  to  be  worth  more  than  you  do.  The  only  difierence  is,  that  we 
look  at  them  from  a  point  of  view  which  you  do  not.  We  believe 
them  to  be  worth  teaching,  and  worth  exhorting  to,  and  worth  believ- 
ing. And  I  say  to  you,  "  If  you  can  have  nothing  else,  have  them ;" 
as  I  would  say  to  men,  "  If  you  can  have  nothing  better,  have  copper ; 
if  you  can  rise  to  silver,  take  silver ;  but  if  you  can  get  gold,  do  not 
stop  on  copper,  nor  on  silver.  Take  the  highest."  And  I  think  you 
would  take  it. 

Now,  in  regard  to  these  moral  matters,  these  lower  forms  of  reli- 
gious development,  these  rude  elements  of  wisdom  and  goodness  in 
life,  we  say,  "  Take  them,  at  least.  Restrain  your  appetites  and  pas- 
sions. Develop  kindly  sympathies.  Live  to  do  good  among  your 
fellow-men.  But  do  not  think,  for  one  single  moment,  that  that  is  the 
sum  total  of  manhood."    It  is  the  mere  biush  that  giows  at  the 


TEE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  A  NEW  LIFE.  435 

bottom  of  the  trunk.  It  is  not  the  broad  tree.  It  is  not  the  inagni- 
ficent  blossom  of  the  magnolia.  The  pure,  white  blossom  of  spiritual 
life  is  high  above  this,  in  a  better  air,  and  under  a  stronger  sun. 

And  yet  (and  it  is  just  this  point  that  induces  me  to  discourse  on 
this  subject  to-night)  there  are  a  great  many  who  say,  "  What  does  all 
this  talk  about  following  Christ  amount  to  ?     There  are  men  who  cer- 
tainly are  better  Christians  than  those  who  are  in  the  Church,  that  do 
not  even  believe  in  the  divinity  of  Christ.     They  are  upright,  public- 
spiiited  men,  and  so  most  valuable  citizens.     Nobody  contributes  to 
all  worthy  enterprises  so  willingly  as  they.    They  are  temperance  men, 
and  are  active  in  endeavors  to  save  from  intemperance  those  around 
about  them.     They  are  seeking,  by  their  example,  to  impress  the  com- 
munity with  ideas  of  generosity  and  integrity.    In  many  respects  they 
are  self-sacrificing.      And  although  they  may  not  technically  be  fol- 
lowers of  Christ,  are  they  not  really  followers  of  Christ  ?     And  are  we 
to  say  of  them  that  they  are  not  in  the  new  life  T  I  say,  unhesitatingly, 
that  they  are  not  in  the  new  life.     There-  are  many  men  who  seem  to 
be  only  moralists,  but  who  I  admit  are  in  the  germiuant  state  of  Chris- 
tianity.   There  are  those  who  are  fjimiliar  with  the  truth  of  Christ,  and 
are  excellent  in  the  lower  forms  of  morals,  and  of  whom  a  gi'eat  many 
men  say,  "  They  are  followers  of  Christ,  though  they  do  not  know  it, 
and  though  they  reject  His  name."     But  I  say.  No.     They  are  very 
good  men  in  a  lower  sphere,  but  that  which  is  the  distinctive  charac- 
teristic of  Christianity  or  of  manhood  as  intei-preted  by  Christ — the 
new  conception  of  human  nature,  the  new  conception  of  human  life 
and  human  development,  given  us  by  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ — requu-es, 
not  that  men  should  do  certain  just  things,  and  merciful  things,  and 
pure  things,  but  that  they  should  have  raised  themselves  above  the 
animal  condition  of  life,  and  come,  by  the  touch  of  God's  creative  spu-it, 
into  the  supersensuous  state,  prepared  to  rise  out  of  this  natural  sphere 
into  the  sphere  above,  and  become  members  of  the  great  assembly, 
where  are  spiiits  of  just  men  made  perfect.     And  while  I  do  not  rail 
at  these  lower  elements,  I  say.  So  many  Christian  churches,  so  many 
professors  of  religion,  are  sordid ;  so  many  profess  to  be  Christians, 
and  so  few  give  evidence  of  it,  that  I  am  not  surprised  that  there 
should  be  constitutionally  just  and  upright  men  who  put  them  all  to 
shame. 

Now,  1  do  not  regard  a  man  as  a  Christian  simply  because  he  is  in 
the  Church.  Neither  do  I  regard  a  man  as  a  Christian  simply  be- 
cause he  is  just  and  upright  A  man  may  be  better  than  members 
of  the  Church,  and  yet  not  be  a  Christian.  That  is  not  the  point  of 
comparison.  We  cannot  afford,  unfortunately,  to  make  Church  mem- 
bei-ship  the  standard  of  Christianity.     We  are  to  measure  all  men  by 


436  THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  A  NEW  LIFE. 

nothing  else  than  the  ideal  of  Christ  himself;  viz.,  that  faith  'w7iich\ 
works  hy  love.  It  is  by  that  opening  development,  that  newly  created 
element,  in  the  human  soul,  by  which  it  takes  hold  of  the  great  in- 
visible realm  of  God,  and  the  master  truths  of  that  invisible  realm ;  it 
is  by  the  power  of  all-pervading  love  in  the  human  soul,  that  men  are 
to  be  saved.  And  nothing  could  be  worse  for  this  world  than  to  lower 
the  conception  of  what  Christianity  requires. 

In  the  first  presentation  of  this  view,  it  seems  as  though  it  were 
illiberal.  It  seems,  for  instance,  as  if  those  men  who  are  honest  and 
good  ought  to  be  reckoned  as  Christians.  It  seems  as  though  those 
who  do  not  call  them  Christians  were  illiberal.  It  seems,  on  the 
other  hand,  as  though  a  man  who  maintains  the  integrity  of  a  higher 
ideal,  and  holds  men  to  it,  were  an  illiberal  man.     But  it  is  not  so. 

Here  are  two  teachers.  One  of  them  is  thought  to  be  liberal.  He 
lets  the  boys  do  about  as  they  please.  They  nuzzle  in  the  mud.  They 
run  to  all  manner  of  license  and  self-indulgence.  And  he  flatters  them. 
In  that  way  he  works  them  along  as  best  he  can.  And  on  the  whole 
they  are  pretty  good  boys.  But  he  turns  them  out  into  life  unedu- 
cated, undiilled,  unself-denying,  and  without  the  power  of  self-restraint. 
And  he  is  called  a  good  man.     He  is  goody,  but  not  good. 

The  other  man  knows  what  life  means  ;  he  knows  what  manhood 
requii'es ;  and  he  holds  his  school  strictly  and  sternly  to  the  line  of 
duty.  He  will  not  permit  delinquency.  He  scourges  and  drives  up, 
by  every  stimulus  possible,  his  boys  to  higher  honor,  to  greater  in- 
dustry, to  nobler  aspirations,  to  larger  and  larger  acquisitions. 

The  so-called  liberal  man  is  the  man  who  permits  men  to  run  riot, 
and  waste  their  powers,  and  under-build,  and  under-plan,  and  under- 
act, and  under-live.  Is  that  liberalism'?  It  is  liberalism  down-hill. 
They  are  the  truest  liberals  who  lift  the  ideal  of  character,  the  stan- 
dard of  ambition,  higher  and  higher,  and  hold  men  to  it. 

When,  therefore,  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  says  that  moralities  are  not 
sufficient  (for  that  is  substantially  his  declaration  to  Nicodemus) ;  when 
\  he  says  that  the  ideal  character  is  one  that  is  born  of  God,  and  that  it 
is  by  the  power  of  the  Divine  Spiiit  that  we  are  to  come  to  it,  and 
that  we  cannot  come  to  it  by  any  other  instrumentality,  he  is  the 
truest  friend  of  man.  And  among  men,  he  is  the  most  generous  and 
kind  who  maintains  that  ideal,  and  shows  his  fellow-men,  not  that  the 
things  which  belong  to  the  body  are  worthless,  but  that  true  manhood 
is  far  higher  than  the  body  can  reach,  and  far  higher  than  the  ordiuaiy 
reason  can  reach — so  high  that  it  can  only  be  reached  by  the  power  of 
God  in  the  soul. 

"  To  them  gave  He  power  to  become  the  sons  6f  God,  even  to  them  that 
believe  on  His  name." 


TEE  CERI8TIAN  LIFE  A  NEW  LIFE.  437 

I  shall  not  undertake  to  answer  the  question  which  we  hear  pro- 
pounded, and  which  branches  off  to  an  entirely  different  subject ;  viz., 
what  becomes  of  those  who  reach  so  high  on  the  plane  of  morality,  but 
do  not  touch  the  yet  higher  plane  of  spirituality  ?  You  might  just  as 
well  ask  me  what  becomes  of  a  marksman  who  almost  hits  the  mark, 
but  does  not  hit  it.  You  might  just  as  well  ask  me  what  becomes  of 
an  anchor  that  is  let  out  of  a  ship,  and  reaches  almost  to  the  bottom, 
but  stops  short  without  touching  it.  You  might  as  well  ask  me  what 
becomes  of  a  portrait  which  is  splendidly  painted,  and  is  almost  like 
the  man  that  it  is  designed  to  represent,  and  yet  is  not  like  hira.  You 
might  as  well  ask  me  what  becomes  of  medical  treatment  that  comes 
\  very  near  curing  a  man,  and  yet  lets  him  die.  The  question  as  to 
what  becomes  of  these  developments  of  morality  I  leave  to  the  future, 
and  I  leave  to  the  Master.  "Eye  hath  not  seen."  I  know  not.  But 
one  thing  I  know,  that  whatever  may  become  of  those  who  have  had 
but  little  chance ;  whatever  may  become  of  those  who  have  not  been 
instructed,  there  scarcely  can  be  room  for  doubt  as  to  what  will  be- 
come of  those  who  have  had  an  open  eye  directed  to  the  clearest 
truth,  who  have  had  it  urged  upon  them  again  and  again,  who  have 
been  convicted  by  it,  and  whose  souls  have  been  stimulated  and  elec- 
trified by  the  power  of  this  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  Christ.  When  men, 
under  such  circumstances,  deliberately  put  the  truth  aside,  and  crucify, 
so  far  as  in  them  lies,  the  Lord  of^Glory  afresh,  and  tread  under  foot 
the  blood  of  atonement,  and  call  it  an  unholy  thing,  it  can  scarcely  be 
doubted  what  will  become  of  them.  If  we  are  to  accept  the  revelation 
of  Scripture  at  all,  we  must  take  this  part  of  it. 

That  there  are  many  persons  who  have  this  new  life  in  the  very 
lowest  form,  I  do  firmly  believe ;  and  that  all  who  have  the  germ 
principle  of  it  in  them  will  be  saved,  I  verily  believe.  It  is  not  that  we 
have  developed  very  much,  it  is  that  we  have  a  point  of  development 
established  in  us,  that  determines  our  safety  and  salvability.  It  is  that 
the  Spirit  of  God  has  gained  a  lodgment  in  the  soul,  that  the  leaven 
is  there,  that  the  root  is  thrown  down  and  the  germ  is  pointed  up, 
that  gives  us  ground  for  hope.  That  being  secured,  there  Ls  an  infinite 
space  of  time  for  men  to  develop  in. 

But  of  those  who  are  without  the  germ-form,  of  those  upon  whose 
view  there  is  no  light  of  the  word  of  God  thrown,  and  who  have  no 
hope,  there  is  not  much  that  we  can  say.  What  are  we,  that  we 
should  speak  with  authority  where  God  himself  is  silent,  and  where 
the  all-merciful  Saviour  is  silent,  or  speaks  only  in  words  of  warning, 
and  of  solemn  dissuasion  ? 

And  so  let  me  say  to  you,  that,  whatever  may  seem  to  be  the 
plausibleness  of  modern  reasonings,  in  respect  to  character,  whatever 


438  TEE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  A  NEW  LIFE. 

may  seem  to  be  the  real  excellence  of  the  lower  sphere  of  human  at- 
tainments, no  man  shall  see  the  Lord  except  he  be  a  participator  of 
His  holiness.  No  man  is  in  the  kingdom  of  God  unless  he  has  devel- 
oped all  those  higher  spuitual  forces,  and  come  into  this  ideal  state  of 
manhood,  by  the  regenerating  power  of  God. 

This  is  the  truth  that  I  have  for  you  to-night.  Men  may  be  very 
good  men  in  their  way,  and  do  many  things  that  ai'e  amiable  and  ex- 
alted, and  yet, 

*'  Except  a  man  be  bom  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God." 

Children  of  Christian  parents,  to  you  is  my  appeal  to-night.  Men. 
and  brethren,  I  am  not  here  the  advocate  of  a  sect ;  I  am  not  here 
calling  for  volunteers ;  I  am  not  here  to  build  up  a  party ;  I  am  simply 
a  man  standing  among  men  to  speak  to  you  of  those  truths  of  my 
Master  and  your  Master  which  bid  you  hope  for  a  nobler  manhood 
than  it  is  given  to  nature  to  unvail  or  to  conceive  of  You  are  not 
forever  necessitated  to  move  in  the  body,  nor  with  the  animals  that 
dwell  upon  the  earth.  Neither  are  the  lower  faculties  your  only  in- 
heritance. They  were  given  you  for  a  pui-pose ;  you  are  permitted  to 
use  them ;  but  there  is  the  new  and  living  way  of  Jesus  Christ  by 
which  you  may  go,  step  by  step,  higher,  to  a  sphere  where  you  will  be 
removed  from  these  material  laws,  in  the  presence  of  God. 

To  you  I  bring  this  higher  life,  this  nobler  education,  this  privilege 
and  prerogative,  the  sonship  of  God.  "Will  you  accept  it,  and  become 
sons  of  God? 

Ah !  blessed  are  the  crowned  with  invisible  crowns,  whose  hands 
may  toil  with  poverty,  but  whose  souls  handle  the  eternal  riches  ot 
God.  Blessed  are  they  who  droop  in  earthly  sorrow,  and  mourn :  they 
shall  be  comforted ;  for  all  the  heaven  drops  down  compassion  and 
mercy  for  them.  Blessed  are  they  who  suffer  here  that  they  may  reign 
there.  Blessed  are  they  who,  when  Christ  comes  to  them,  know  their 
Mastei',  and  accept  from  him  that  power  by  which  they  become  sons 
of  God,  and  heirs,  joint  heirs,  with  Christ  to  an  eternal  inheritance. 

May  this  wisdom  be  yours ;  and  may  you  have  the  fruition  of  this 
spiritual  life,  and  this  immortality,  and  this  glory,  thi'ough  Chiist  our 
Redeemer.     Amen. 


THE  CimiSTIAN  LIFE  A  NEW  LIFE.  439 

PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

We  draw  near  to  thee,  our  Heavenly  Father,  encouraf]:ed  by  the  memory 
of  all  thy  past  goodness  to  us.  Thou  hast  taken  away  the  terror  from  our 
thought  of  thee.  We  no  longer  behold  thee  as  interpreted  by  fear,  nor 
through  lurid  guilt.  We  no  longer  behold  thee  sitting  in  judgment,  terrible, 
full  of  all  threat,  administering  the  law  and  its  condign  penalty.  Thou  art 
the  Helpful  One  to  us.  Thy  heart  beats  for  us  and  for  all.  And  from  thy 
brow  is  cleared  all  scowling  threat.  And  thine  eyes  are  full  of  compassion. 
And  thy  lips  speak  mercy  and  love.  And  thy  pierced  hands  are  spread — 
hands  that  bear  empire,  and  draw  men  to  thee,  that  they  may  become  thine; 
that  they  may  enter  into  a  secret  life ;  that  they  may  be  translated  from  the 
power  of  the  flesh  into  the  realm  of  the  spirit,  and  live  as  unto  God.  And 
we  rejoice  that  thou  hast  made  so  many  witnesses  of  this  thy  power.  For 
thou  hast  begun  in  them  this  life,  which,  although  it  languishes,  and  is  ob- 
structed, is  not  destroyed.  As  our  days  in  summer  are  overhung  with 
clouds,  so  thy  face,  by  tempests  of  our  troublous  passions,  is  obscured.  Yet, 
the  day  is  begun,  and  the  light  is  shining,  and  shall  ere  long  triumph  over 
every  difficulty  and  every  hindrance,  shining  clear  to  the  end.  We  rejoice 
that  thou  hast  granted  unto  us  no  mean  measure ;  that  we  are  set  forth  to 
become  the  sons  of  God  ;  that  we  are  not  to  live,  as  do  the  beasts,  for  the 
pleasure  of  the  hour,  for  sense  and  then  perish  ;  that  it  is  ours  to  be  translated 
into  thy  kingdom,  to  be  enrolled,  when  this  flesh  shall  fall  and  rise  to  im- 
mortality and  glory. 

Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  we  may  foresee  the  blessedness  of  this  estate ; 
that  we  may  by  faith  apprehend  thee  clearly,  and  eagerly  embrace  it,  and 
be  satisfied  with  nothing  less  than  this.  And  whatever  perishes,  let  not  our 
crown  perish.  And  whatever  we  may  fear  in  this  world,  let  us  not  fear  ex- 
clusion, in  the  world  to  come,  from  thy  presence.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt 
deal  with  us  with  rigor,  if  it  be  needful.  In  love  chastise  us,  that  we  may 
follow  our  Father's  hand,  and  know  that  he  will  not  permit  us  to  err  xmto 
our  ©wn  destruction. 

We  pray  that  thou  wilt  grant  that  many  may  be  aroused  to  a  sense  ot 
their  necessities.  May  they  behold  the  uselessness  of  their  self-indulgent 
lives.  May  they  turn  away  from  the  vanity  of  the  world,  and  from  the  lusts 
of  the  flesh.  May  they  seek  the  things  that  are  pure,  and  true,  and  just,  and 
noble.  May  they  rise  above  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  these  earthly  days 
and  nations,  and  enter  into  the  republic  above,  and  have  such  a  commerce 
with  thee  and  with  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  that  they  shall  be 
already  in  fellowship,  where  soon  they  shall  be  in  full  citizenship. 

Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  thy  kingdom  may  be  advanced  everywhere. 
May  thy  servants  who  preach  righteousness  be  armed  by  the  Lord,  and  not 
be  daunted  nor  turned  back. 

And  now,  with  so  many  insidious  errors  coming  in — now,  that  so  many 
things  would  blur  and  hide  the  light  of  true  piety,  grant  that  there  may  be 
faithful  witnesses  found,  and  that  they  may  bear  such  testimony  that  the 
Lord  shall  yet  be  made  known  and  honored  everywhere. 

We  pray  for  the  elevation  of  the  nations  of  the  earth ;  for  the  spirit  of 
civilization  and  of  knowledge,  and  of  liberality;  for  the  cessation  of  war. 
We  pray  for  the  fellowship  of  nations ;  for  peace  and  amity;  for  helpfulness 
and  not  hindrance.  We  pray  that  all  forms  of  evil  may  cease.  And  grant 
that  thy  kingdom  may  come,  and  thy  will  be  done,  on  earth  as  it  is  in 
heaven. 

We  ask  it  in  the  adorable  name  of  Jesus,  to  whom,  with  the  Father  and 
the  Holy  Spirit,  shall  be  praises  everlasting.    Amen, 


440  TEE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  A  NEW  LIFE. 

PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

Grant,  our  Heavenly  Father,  that  the  word  of  truth  spoken  may  sink 
into  good  and  honest  hearts,  and  bring  forth  fruit  unto  eternal  life.  May 
we  not  be  seduced,  by  men's  reasonings,  from  the  simplicity  of  thy  word. 
May  we  hear  the  voice  of  Christ  speaking  of  our  noble  manhood,  and  not 
the  voice  of  men  flattering  each  other.  May  we  be  discontented  with  our- 
selves. May  we  evermore  have  that  glorious  discontent  which  shall  lift  us, 
not  in  mutterings  and  repinings,  but  in  aspirations  and  yearnings  for  things 
noble  and  pure  in  thy  higher  sphere.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  open  the 
eyes  of  those  who  are  blind,  and  unstop  the  ears  of  those  who  are  deaf,  and 
soften  the  hearts  of  those  who  are  hard-hearted.  Grant  that  there  may  be 
many  that  shall  hear  in  truth  thy  word,  and  receive,  and  have  wrought  iu 
them  that  which  comes  from  the  working  power  of  God.  Which  we  ask 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.    Amen. 


XXVL 

Conceit. 


CONCEIT. 


•'  Seest  thou  a  man  wise  in  his  own  conceit  ?  there  is  more  hope  of  a  fool 
than  of  him."— Piiov.  XXVI.,  12. 


There  is  very  little  hope  of  a  fool ,  and  if  a  man  who  is  conceited 
ia  worse  off  than  that,  he  is  badly  off  indeed. 

The  opinion  of  Solomon  is  not  shared  by  men  very  generally.  Con- 
ceit is  very  much  in  repute,  and  very  widely  prevalent ;  and  people  who 
are  conceited  by  no  means  think  that  they  are  fools.  They  think  that 
Solomon  was  one. 

What  is  this  conceit?  Men  are  thought  to  be  conceited  who  are 
positive ;  but  that  is  by  no  means  what  is  meant  by  conceit.  A  man 
of  an  intense  nature,  and  a  clear-cut  understanding,  sees  precisely, 
when  he  sees  at  all,  and  he  knows  what  he  knows,  and  seems,  often- 
times, to  be  opinionated  and  conceited.  lie  may  be  opinionated,  but 
that  is  not  necessarily  being  conceited.  Nor  are  we  to  suppose  that 
eveiy  man  who  is  over-confident  is  conceited.  That  may  spring  from 
hopefulness.  A  man's  buoyant  temperament,  a  man's  sanguine  dis- 
position, leads  him  oftentimes  into  conceit^  and,  as  a  general  thing, 
there  is  y  little  in  his  experience  to  correct  it.  There  are  some 
men  who,  if  you  throw  them  down  and  leave  them,  get  up  again. 
They  are  like  an  india-rubber  ball,  which,  no  matter  how  much  you 
compress  it,  resumes  the  same  shape  and  elasticity  still.  There  are 
some  men  who,  no  matter  what  happens  to  them,  retain  their  original 
characteristics.  ^Vnd  ordinarily  an  over-sanguine  man,  who  is  hopeful 
to  his  damage,  remains  so  ;  and  his  life  is  a  series  of  ups  and  downs,  of 
successes  and  disasters,  closely  connected. 

If  it  were  not  for  these  men,  society  would  be  veiy  apt  to  stand 
still.  They  are  pioneers.  They  go  before.  And  their  disasters  and 
successes  are  so  many  lessons  to  those  who  come  after  them.  The 
bankrui)tcy  and  failure  of  sanguine  men  has,  in  thousands  of  instances, 
pointed  out  to  successors  the  light  way  to  go.  As  in  a  narrow  chan- 
nel, one  ship,  going  before,  and  running  aground,  becomes  a  warning 
to  other  ships  that  run  into  the  same  channel ;  so  many  men,  going 
before  in  life,  and  making  mistakes,  become  wai'uiugs  to  those  who 
follow  behuid  them. 

Si'NUAT  EvKMNQ,  April  10,  1870.  Lesson  :Pbot.  XXIL,  1-6.  HrUMS  (Pljmoath  CoUeetionJ 

Nog.  l-iil,  12yo.  1267. 


442  CONCEIT. 

I 

Again,  there  are  persons  who  have  the  appearance  of  being  con- 
ceited, on  account  of  simple  courage  and  an  energetic  temperament 
They  affirm  and  they  feel  with  an  immense  deal  more  pressure  of 
blood  to  the  square  inch,  if  I  may  so  say,  than  their  fellows  do ;  and  it 
gives  them  something  of  a  towering  and  dictatorial  way,  and  men 
say  that  they  are  conceited. 

A  man  is  conceited  who  has  an  opinion  of  himself,  of  his  abilities, 
and  of  his  deeds,  which  is  quite  disproportionate  to  any  fair  measure- 
ment or  judgment  of  him.  There  are  a  great  many  conceited  persons 
who  are  the  subjects  of  much  wit  and  badinage  behind  theu'  back, 
and  who  are  very  harmlessly  conceited.  There  are  a  great  many  per- 
sons who  have  an  overweening  estimate  of  themselves.  Everything 
in  the  world  is  thought  of  by  them  in  relation  to  themselves.  You 
may  start  any  subject  you  please ;  and  in  less  than  a  minute  they  will 
get  off  from  that  subject  and  commence  talking  about  themselves. 
All  creation  runs  to  a  center ;  and  they  are  the  center.  They  love  to 
talk  about  themselves,  and  they  love  to  hear  other  people  talk  about 
them.  The  one  thermometric  test  of  everything,  is,  how  it  affects 
hem.  And  you  will  frequently  see  such  persons,  in  all  their  inter- 
course with  their  fellow-men,  have  an  innocent,  a  sometimes  unconscious, 
and  a  sometimes  conscious  conceit.  They  move  about,  and  people, 
smiling,  look  after  them,  and  say  all  manner  of  uncomplimentary  things 
of  them,  sometimes  bitterly,  and  sometimes  amiably. 

Although  this  conceit  is  really  a  great  weakness,  yet  it  is  not  that 
kind  of  damaging  conceit  which  Scripture  speaks  of,  and  of  which  I 
shall  speak  to-night 

It  is  a  great  weakness  for  a  man  to  have  this  constitutional  vanity, 
this  overweening,  intense  estimate  of  himself;  but  still,  if  he  conforms 
to  the  great  laws  of  life,  if  he  conforms  to  the  great  moral  and  intel- 
lectual laws  of  his  being,  he  will  go  successfully  and  safely  on  through 
life,  although  with  some  abatement  to  dignity,  and  some  abatement  to 
reputation.  For,  when  everybody  sees  that  a  man  is  taking  care  of 
his  own  reputation,  and  of  himself,  there  is  no  sympathy  with  him. 
Men  let  him  take  care  of  his  reputation  and  of  himself,  and  do  not 
help  him  to  do  it,  under  such  cu'cumstances. 

The  first  form  of  conceit  of  which  1  shall  speak,  and  which 
comes  under  the  condemnatory  passage  I  have  read,  is  that  which 
usually  breaks  out  at  the  point  of  transition,  where  the  young  ai'e 
just  passing  from  subordination  in  youth  to  self-government  in  man- 
hood. This  mischievous  conceit  is  that  which  leads  men  to  set 
aside  established  formulae,  to  override  experience,  and  substantially  to 
be  skeptical  of  the  great  laws  of  cause  and  effect  as  they  stand  re- 
lated  to  moral    and  intellectual   development  in  life.      In   many    a 


CONCEIT.  443 

generous  nature — incleecl,  perhaps,  in  most — the  transition  from  subop- 
dination  and  family  discipline  to  independency,  is  made  through  a 
period  of  conceit,  in  which  the  young  man  and  maiden  no  longer 
tolerate  government.  It  irks  them  to  be  reproved  or  commanded. 
They  will  not  have  advice.  They  grow  sulky  and  ugly,  and  are  a 
torment  to  themselves  and  everybody  that  loves  them.  They  know 
more — they  are  sure  they  do — than  the  other  folks  that  live  in  the 
house.  They  know  more  than  their  father  and  their  mother  do.  They 
admit  that  the  old  folks  did  very  well  for  old  times;  but  then  they  live 
in  new  times,  and,  being  young  folks,  they  catch  the  rising  spuit  of  the 
coming  day ;  and  they  do  not  think  it  fair  that  they  should  be  held  to 
conformity  to  the  old  ways.  And  so  very  excellent  young  men  con- 
tinue to  make  themselves  intolerable  for  a  short  period.  It  seems  as 
though  young  people  have  to  go  through  this  period,  just  as  children 
have  to  go  through  chicken-pox,  and  measles,  and  rash,  and  all  other 
little  diseases  of  that  kind  which  break  out  once,  and  then  are  over 
with. 

If  this  matter  stops  early,  if  a  change  takes  place  with  some  of 
the  first  experiences  of  practical  life,  it  is  well.  If  not,  the  beginnings 
of  the  end  are  frequently  found.  At  just  this  point  there  are  many 
who  make  fatal  steps,  and  begin  with  a  downfall  from  which  they 
never  recover  themselves.  In  innumerable  persons  this  rash  of  con- 
ceit breaks  out  at  the  very  threshold  of  their  manhood.  But  in  many 
natures  it  is  very  much  like  the  prancing  and  frisking  of  an  untamed 
colt ;  and  the  harness  and  the  road  are  the  cure.  There  has  been 
many  a  young  man  who  was  intolerably  conceited  until  he  was  put 
soundly  to  work,  and  responsibilities  were  laid  upon  him,  and  cares 
began  to  be  a  part  of  his  daily  food.  Then  he  began  to  feel  that 
other  men  did  know  more  than  he,  that  there  is  some  use  in  counsel, 
and  that  to  have  some  one  wiser  and  stronger  to  lean  upon  is  indeed  a 
great  blessing  and  a  great  mercy.  Now  this  temporary  conceit  of 
youth  is  com])aratively  a  weakness,  rather  than  a  sin  and  a  crime,  as 
other  forms  of  conceit  are. 

Another  class  of  conceited  persons  are  those  who  find  themselves 
constrained  in  their  country  life,  and  feel  that  they  have  not  room  in 
which  to  develop  all  the  talents  which  God  has  committed  to  their 
charge.  There  are  a  great  many  youth  in  the  country,  well  bred  at 
home,  who  would  grow  up  to  be  respectable  men — farmers,  mechanics, 
or  professional  men — in  their  own  region  round  about,  but  who  feel 
the  spirit  of  a  hundred  men  in  them,  and  think  that  the  country  is  not 
large  enough,  and  that  they  must  emigrate  to  the  city.  The  city  is 
the  place  for  a  man  to  find  his  fortune,  they  think. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  say  that  every  man  is  bound  to  vegetate 


444  CONCEIT. 

where  the  seed  sprouted,  and  that  no  man  may  go  from  the  country  to 
the  city,  or  from  the  city  to  the  country.  I  would  not  be  understood 
as  saying  that  there  shall  be  no  circulation.  I  merely  animadvert  upon 
those  who  have  this  contumescent  feeling  that  there  is  not  room 
enough  in  the  country  for  them  to  display  the  treasure  of  their  talents 
in.  They  come  down  to  the  city,  thousands  and  thousands  more  than 
the  city  wants.  It  is  a  pitiful  thing  to  see  the  enormous  pressure 
there  is  at  every  open  door  of  ordinary  pursuits,  and  the  overcrowded 
state  of  the  city.  It  would  promote  the  morals  of  the  nation  if  the  city 
were  to  vomit  out  one-thii-d  of  its  young  population.  They  are  not 
wanted.  They  trample  each  other  down  in  the  dust  in  their  competi- 
tions. During  not  more  than  one-third  of  the  year  can  half  the  force 
be  employed.  During  the  rest  of  the  time.  Heaven  knows  how  they 
get  a  living.  Not  always  reputably  nor  honestly — certainly  not  m  a 
manly  spirit.  And  yet,  more  are  perpetually  coming  from  the  country 
to  the  city. 

If  a  man  be  tough,  if  a  man  have  two  men's  force,  he  may  go  from 
the  country  into  the  city  and  do  well ;  but  of  all  places  on  earth  for 
dependent  men,  for  men  of  a  weak  nerve,  for  men  that  are  not  elastic 
and  enduring,  the  city  is  the  worst.  It  grinds  up  weak  men  as  the 
mill  grinds  wheat.  It  is  the  last  place  that  they  should  go  to.  But 
hither  they  come  in  countless  multitudes,  having  the  impression  that 
in  the  city  fortunes  go  around  begging  persons  to  take  them ;  that  in 
the  city  treasures  hang  like  grapes  in  a  vineyard  over  n,  trellis,  and 
may  be  had  by  stretching  out  the  hand.  They  come  to  the  city  feeling 
that  nimbleness  and  smartness  will  certainly  win  here.  How  many, 
many  there  are,  who  come  down  annually  to  fiill  into  the  pit !  The 
most  mournful  thing  in  city  life  is  the  continuous  destruction  of  young 
men  and  maidens.  Because  it  is  so  hidden  from  our  eyes,  because  it 
is  so  gradual,  that  we  do  not  perceive  the  stages  of  it,  we  are  shocked. 
But  if  a  single  case  should  be  selected,  and  we  should  see,  as  in  a 
dream,  the  enactment  which  takes  place,  first  from  virtue  to  weakness 
and  vice,  and  then  on  to  wickedness  and  crime,  that  one  jnstance 
would  fill  us  with  horror.  And  there  are  hundreds  and  thousands  of 
instances  which  we  think  nothing  about,  simply  because  they  are  so 
much  hidden.  We  know  that  they  are  takmg  place ;  we  know  that 
multitudes,  green  and  callow,  come  to  the  cities,  and  in  the  remorse- 
less maw  of  vice  and  crime  are  consumed.  As  the  larger  fishes  eat 
up  and  destroy  the  smaller  ones,  so  this  great  whale-city  ingurgitates 
and  digests  multitudes  and  multitudes  of  the  young  men  that  were 
brought  hither  by  conceit ;  by  an  overweening  self-confidence ;  by  an 
impression  that  they  had  the  capacity,  the  power,  to  succeed ;  by  au 
inordinate  sense  of  their  importance,  and  of  their  faculty  and  skill  for 


CONCEIT.  445 

getting  along  in  the  worltl.  And  borne  hither  by  this  conceit,  they 
are  destroyed  ere  long,  and  theu-  fragments  are  spewed  out ;  and  that 
is  all  that  there  is  of  their  life. 

Then  there  are  those  who  perish  by  conceit  because  they  assume 
that  they  can  succeed  in  life  on  the  principle  of  good  luck,  instead  of 
by  a  recognition  of  and  obedience  to  the  great  law  of  equivalents.  The 
law  of  God  in  this  world,  is,  "  Whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  that  shall  he 
also  reap  ;"  and  the  apostle  declares  that  "  God  is  not  mocked."  Con- 
ceit declares  that  God  can  be  mocked.  And  there  are  ten  thousand 
young  men  iu  this  city  to-day,  and  in  the  great  city  adjoining,  who 
are  just  as  sure  as  can  be  that  they  are  going  to  cheat  Providence. 
Others  fail,  to  be  sure  ;  but  then,  they  were  not  as  smart  as  these  are. 
They  did  not  know  as  much !  They  were  not  as  cunning  nor  shrewd, 
nor  deft,  nor  lucky !  There  are  multitudes  who  believe  that  they  can 
sow  idleness,  and  reap  abundance  ;  that  they  can  sow  carelessness,  and 
have  the  products  of  care ;  that  they  can  sow  self-indulgence,  and  get 
that  which  only  comes  from  frugality  and  economy,  and  enterprise,  and 
industry,  the  longest  continued.  There  are  multitudes  of  men  who  be- 
lieve that  they  can  squander  their  passions,  double-handed,  and  throw 
away  their  life,  and  yet  gather  all,  and  garner  all.  There  are  multi- 
tudes of  persons  who  come  down  to  the  city,  feeling,  not  that  they 
are  going  to  make  their  fortune  by  the  closest  attention  to  business. 
Oh  no !  That  is  no  part  of  theu-  intent.  They  mean  to  do  just  as 
little  as  they  can.  They  mean  to  elude  detection  just  as  long  as  they 
can.  They  believe  that  they  can  live  a  double  life.  They  believe  that 
they  can  live  a  life,  capacious  and  deep,  of  licence  and  licentiousness, 
covered  with  a  sort  of  cream  of  higher  qualities.  In  that  lower  life 
their  blood  is  to  circulate.  There  all  their  nerves  are  to  be  played  upon 
with  infinite  joys,  varying  from  day  to  day,  and  above  that  they  are 
going  to  have  a  little  bit  of  a  life  of  respectability  and  morality. 
They  are  going  to  show  their  employers,  and  other  people,  that  they 
can  live  in  the  indulgence  of  then*  lower  faculties  and  sensuous  nature, 
while  they  keep  up  a  better  life  on  the  surface.  There  are  thousands  of 
men  who  live  for  the  gratification  of  their  selfishness,  their  lusts  and 
appetites,  their  animalism,  and  are  conceited  enough  to  believe  that 
they  are  going  to  succeed  in  life  in  the  wicked  game  that  they  are 
playing.  They  think  they  can  succeed  by  cheating  their  employers, 
cheating  the  world,  and  cheating  God.  They  think  they  can  succeed 
though  they  turn  their  days  into  pleasure,  and  their  nights  into  dissipa- 
tion. They  are  going  to  do  as  little  as  they  can  ;  and  that  little  they 
are  going  to  do  to  their  own  advantage ;  and  by  their  deftness  they 
are  going  to  set  at  naught  the  canons  of  strict  honesty  and  honor,  and 
are  going  to  be  glittering,  and  brilliant,  and  happy.     They  are  not 


446  CONCEIT. 

going  to  read  nor  to  study  much.  They  are  somehow  going  to  be 
wise  through  their  smartness.  They  are  going  to  succeed  in  life  by 
their  wits.  More  than  that,  they  are  going  to  do  just  what  their  heart 
wants  to  do,  and  just  what  their  flesh  wants  to  do.  And  they  think 
they  are  going  to  dodge  all  the  nets  and  snares  which  are  set  to  harm 
and  destroy  them.  They  think  that  somehow  or  other  they  are  going 
to  maintain  the  reputation  of  being  viiluous  and  honorable  men,  at  the 
same  time  that  they  are  practicing  dishonorable  and  unvirtuous  habits. 
God  says  to  them,  "Thou  fool !" 

"  Seest  thou  a  man  wise  in  his  own  conceit  ?  there  is  more  hope  of  a  fool 
than  of  him." 

I  see  shops  crowded  with  just  such  young  men ;  I  see  stores  crowded 
with  them  ;  I  see  offices  crowded  with  them — young  men  who  are  try- 
ing by  ignominious  ways  to  maintain  themselves.  They  believe  that 
they  will  be  able  to  cheat  God,  and  that  what  they  sow  they  shall  not 
reap.     They  are  going  to  sow  chaff  and  reap  wheat,  in  their  judgment. 

It  is  the  want  of  manliness,  it  is  the  want  of  moral  stamina,  it  is 
the  want  of  a  wise  discrimination  on  the  part  of  young  men,  that 
makes  the  name  clerk  so  often  a  name  of  contempt.  The  business  is 
right:  it  is  the  miserable  conceit  of  the  shallow-pated,  and  the  un- 
learned, and  the  unvirtuous,  that  makes  it  disreputable. 

I  would  that  men  could  learn  to  believe  a  few  things  which  aU  his- 
tory has  been  busy  establishing.  Industry  is  the  beginning  of  pros- 
perity. Frugality  is  the  handmaid  of  industiy.  Temperance  and  self- 
restraint  are  the  indispensable  concomitants  of  prosperity.  He  that 
means  to  prosper  must  pay  for  whatever  he  gets.  I  do  not  mean  in 
money.  There  is  another  counter  over  which  men  take  their  goods. 
If  a  man  is  to  have  learning,  he  must  give  an  equivalent  of  study  for 
it.  If  a  man  is  to  have  an  experience,  he  must  give  an  equivalent  of 
application  for  it.  If  a  man  is  going  to  have  a  character,  he  has  got 
to  earn  or  pay  for  that  character.  And  no  man  will  ever  prosper  in  this 
world  by  luck,  unless  it  be  by  the  luck  of  getting  up  early,  and  work- 
ing hard,  and  maintaining  honor  and  integrity.  Prosperity  gained  in  any 
other  way  will  be  a  delusion  and  a  snare  to  every  young  man. 

Conceit  carries  men  far  beyond  these  bounds  which  I  have  marked 
out.  Although  the  testimony  of  experience  is  that  no  man  can  carry 
a  coal  in  his  bosom  and  not  be  burned,  or  touch  pitch  and  not  be  defiled, 
there  are  multitudes  (and  every  year  the  ranks  are  filled  up  as  they 
di'op  off)  who  are  conceited,  and  believe  that  they  are  a  match  for 
knaves  and  knavery ;  that  they  are  a  match  for  seduction  and  seducers. 
Multitudes  tread  along  the  path  where  there  are  skeletons  innumer- 
able of  men  who  have  been  destroyed,  and  yet  they  do  not  believe 
that  they  are  going  to  be  destroyed.     Many  young  men,  going  to  the 


CONCEIT,  447 

door  of  the  lazar-honse,  have  seen  heaped  np  there  corpses  of  men  that 
have  been  destroyed ;  and  yet,  vamly  confident  of  their  own  safety, 
they  have  gone  in,  to  perish  likewise.  If  men  would  take  warn- 
ing from  that  which  meets  them  at  the  doors  of  gambling  saloons,  and 
the  myriad  other  places  where  thousands  upon  thousands  are  swallowed 
up  and  destroyed,  instead  of  listening  to  the  voice  of  their  conceit, 
what  multitudes  would  be  saved  who  are  now  lost !  But  they  are 
bound  to  try  their  luck.  "  What  is  the  harm  of  an  innocent  game  of 
cards'?"  say  young  men  to  us.  No  harm  in  and  of  itself;  but  there  is 
harm  in  the  associations  which  surround  it ;  in  the  society  into  which 
it  draws  one ;  and  in  the  desire  which  it  excites  in  men  for  unjust 
and  unlawful  gains.  For  every  man  is  a  gambler  who  seeks  to  get 
money  without  giving  a  fiiir  equivalent  for  it,  whether  he  be  gambling 
for  stocks  or  anything  else.  And  yet  men  think  they  can  avoid  bemg 
affected  by  these  associations,  and  this  society,  and  these  provocations. 
Though  others  fail,  they  think  they  will  not  fail  But  how  many  that 
think  so  do  fail ! 

I  know  a  man  in  this  town  who  was  worth  seventy  or  eighty  thou- 
sand dollai-s,  which  he  had  acquired  by  sound  industry ;  but  eighty 
thousand  dollars  was  just  enough  to  kindle  in  him  an  insatiable  desire 
for  wealth.  The  spirit  of  avarice  took  possession  of  him,  and  he  must 
needs  go  into  "  the  street."  He  entered  upon  a  course  for  which  he 
had  not  been  trained ;  and  when  he  came  out,  instead  of  having  in- 
creased his  eighty  thousand  to  five  hundred  thousand,  as  he  meant  to 
do,  he  had  lost  it  all,  and  was  penniless.  And  then,  to  cover  his  dis- 
gi-ace  he  became  a  di'unkard.  Conceit  took  him  in,  and  disaster  kicked 
him  out 

How  many  young  men  there  are  who,  though  old  heads  warn  them, 
and  though  there  are  thousands  that  have  been  destroyed  in  the  same 
path  that  they  are  about  to  enter,  as  they  might  see  if  they  would 
open  their  eyes,  yet  press  forward,  and  say,  "  Oh !  a  fiint  heart  never 
won  a  foir  lady.  Nothing  venture,  nothing  have.  I  will  try."  The 
feeling  is  just  this:  "Ten  thousand  men  fail  because  they  are  not  as 
smart  as  I.  Now  look,  and  see  me  go  into  the  street  and  make  money." 
And  men  do  look  and  see  them  go  into  the  street ;  and  they  see  them 
come  out  of  the  street  again  crest-fallen,  plucked,  drooping,  dishonored, 
discouraged,  all  because  they  made  fools  of  themselves  at  the  begin- 
ning, by  being  too  conceited.  They  are  double  fools,  because  they  not 
only  were  conceited  at  the  beginning,  but  ai"e  disappointed  and  crushed 
at  the  end- 
Not  only  do  men  gamble,  but  they  resort  to  gambling  houses 
through  curiosity.  There  is  not  a  young  man  who  hivs  not  heard 
about  the  dangera  of  these  places.     All  young  men  have  heard  theu 


448  CONCEIT, 

parents  and  tlielr  neighbors  talk  about,  and  have  read  about  In  the 
newspapers,  and  known  about  personally,  cases  of  young  men  who 
have  gone  from  the  country  to  the  city,  and  lost  tlieir  money  by  mock 
auctions,  and  thimble-riggers,  and  other  swindling  operations  ;  and  yet 
multitudes  of  these  same  young  men  go  down  to  the  city,  and  in  their 
conceit,  think  they  can  go  in  the  midst  ot  things,  gratify  their  curi- 
osity, and  escape — and  are  caught  like  so  many  gudgeons.  They 
are  caught  and  plucked,  in  their  greenness,  because  they  are  so  con- 
ceited. Men  go  into  gambling  saloons,  knowing  all  about  them,  know- 
ing well  that  they  are  traps  and  delusions.  They  know  that  an  old 
trained  gambler  is  a  match  for  five  hundred  unsophisticated  young 
men ;  and  yet  they  pit  themselves  against  him.  With  all  his  ex- 
perience, with  all  his  craft,  with  all  his  secret  an*angements,  with  all 
his  organized  knavery,  you  would  say  that  it  was  impossible  for  any- 
body to  make  head  against  him.  A  man  may  have  some  chance  in  a 
game  of  chance,  but  in  gambling  saloons  chances  are  not  allowed.  A 
man  who  gambles  for  a  living  is  nothing  but  an  incarnate  thief,  a  cun- 
ning thief,  a  perpetual  thief — first,  last  and  all  the  time  a  thief.  And 
his  business  is  to  steal.  He  has  made  stealing  a  profession,  and  is 
practiced  in  it.  He  is  acquainted  with  men's  dispositions,  and  knows 
how  to  take  them.  And  here  comes  in  one  of  these  green  young  men. 
He  is  exactly  like  a  little  fly  exploring  a  big  black-bellied  spider's  web, 
that  says,  "  It  does  not  look  as  though  there  was  veiy  much  to  be 
afraid  of  here  ;  I  do  not  see  anything  that  I  cannot  manage ;  at  any 
rate,  I  will  try,"  and  pitches  in.  And  after  he  is  once  in,  you  hear  one 
faint  buzz,  and  that  is  the  end  of  him ! 

There  are  thousands  ot  conceited  young  men  who  come  down  to 
the  city,  oh !  so  shrewd ;  oh  I  so  smart ;  oh !  so  confident  of  their  abil- 
ity to  go  into  danger  and  come  out  without  being  harmed.  They  are 
eager  to  measure  themselves  with  the  men  who  go  to  these  places. 
They  go  to  the  theatei',  and  nudge  their  companions,  and  say,  "  What 
would  the  old  man  think  if  he  saw  me  here  ?  What  would  Aunt  Sal 
say  ?  Would  not  they  think  it  strange  f  And  so  they  jeer  and  laugh. 
And  when  they  come  out  of  the  theater  they  think  they  would  like  to 
have  company,  so  they  go  home  with  company.  They  are  so  smart 
that  they  think  they  are  not  in  danger !  Thei'e  is  nobody  else  that  is 
BO  keen  as  they  are !  They  feel  secure.  And  they  go  into  the  house 
of  death.  And  there  they  are  wrought  upon  by  drugged  wines  and 
drugged  courtesies ;  and  the  dart  strikes  through  their  liver.  They 
were  so  wise  that  they  thought  they  could  meddle  with  pitch  and  not 
be  defiled. 

"  The  lips  of  a  strange  woman  drop  as  an  honey-comb,  and  her  mouth  ia 
smoother  than  oil ;  but  her  end  is  bitter  as  wormwood,  sharp  as  a  two-edged 
Bword.    Her  feet  go  down  to  death,  her  steps  take  hold  on  hell." 


CONCEIT,  449 

The  house  of  the  strange  woman  is  a  deep  pit,  and  multitudes  of 
these  conceited  young  men  fall  into  it  They  think  they  can  be  wicked 
with  impunity,  and  they  venture,  and  are  slam.  It  is  a  house  of  dark- 
ness, it  is  a  house  of  perpetual  death,  and  thousands  upon  thousands,  in 
long,  groaning  processions,  go  in. 

Oh !  that  when  men  come  to  the  front  door,  some  angel  would  take 
them  to  the  back  door,  and  let  them  see  those  come  out  who  went  in 
blossoming  in  the  beauty  of  early  manhood.  Oh !  that  men  could  see 
the  certain  end  of  these  ways  from  the  beginning.  Oh !  that  they 
could  see  the  ghastly  skeletons,  the  pallid  cheeks,  the  leaden  eyes,  the 
rotting  bones,  the  consuming  marrow,  the  hideous  outcome  of  sucl:  a 
life  I  But  ten  thousand  men  perish  because  they  deem  themselves  bO 
smart ;  because  they  are  confident  that,  however  many  may  have  per- 
ished, they  are  not  going  to  perish. 

"  Seest  thou  a  man  wise  in  his  own  conceit  ?  there  is  more  hope  of  a  fool 
than  of  him." 

There  are  a  gi*eat  many  of  these  conceited  men  listening  to  this 
sermon  to-night.  There  are  a  great  many  that  ought  to  listen  to  it.  It 
is  high  time  that  you  heard  some  one  speak  on  these  subjects.  Your 
friends  at  home  do  not  know  what  you  are  doing  ;  and  your  friends  in 
the  city  are  encouraging  you  to  go  in  wrong  ways  ;  and  there  is  no 
faithful  voice  to  tell  you  the  truth  to  your  face,  and  say,  "  Thou  art 
the  man !"  I  say  to  many  that  are  here  to-night.  You  have  begun 
the  career  of  a  fool.  You  are  attempting  to  play  double.  You  are 
attempting  to  live  an  unvutuous  life  and  reap  all  the  safety  of  a  vir- 
tuous life.  You  are  attempting  to  counteract  those  great  laws  of  God, 
those  gi'eat  moral  laws,  which  are  as  absolute  and  real  as  the  law  of 
gi-avitation  and  the  laws  of  light  and  heat,  and  yet  reap  the  blessings 
which  can  only  come  from  obedience  to  those  laws.  You  have  begun 
to  live  in  ways  which,  it  you  continue  in  them,  will  lead  you  to  death  ; 
for  they  are  ways  the  ends  of  which  are  death.  And  I  beseech  of  you 
to  stop  while  there  is  time  to  stop. 

When  a  man  has,  every  day,  the  testimony  of  his  conscience  that 
he  has  done  as  well  as  he  knew,  that  he  has  avoided  all  known  evil, 
and  clung  to  that  which  he  knew  to  be  right,  he  is  safe ;  but  if  a  man 
deviates,  and  goes  into  courses  that  are  wrong,  he  has  to  be  on  his 
guard  all  the  time,  he  never  knows  when  he  is  safe,  he  has  committed 
himself  entirely  to  luck  and  chance. 

I  have  seen  just  such  things  as  these.  I  have  been  here,  now.  over 
twenty  years,  and  I  have  seen  four  or  five  generations  of  young  men 
ruined.  It  only  takes  from  about  four  to  seven  years  to  ruin  a  man. 
This  is  about  the  gradation  *  A  young  man  comes  down  to  the  city, 
from  a  very  good  family,  and  from  a  village  Sunday-school.     He  is  au 


450  CONCEIT, 

amiable,  gentle,  sweet-faced,  kind-hearted,  well-meaning  young  man. 
That  is  the  first  picture  or  vision  that  we  have. 

The  next  vision  that  we  have  is,  that  the  old  home-made  cloth  ia 
gone ;  that  the  plain,  clumsy  roundabout  is  exchanged  for  the  nice, 
trig  coat.  And  now  he  wears  a  flashing,  flaming  pin,  and  all  manner 
of  ornaments.  His  salaiy  is  small ,  but  then,  he  must  dress.  He  is  a 
perfect  Adonis.  You  can  see  by  the  last  touches  which  he  has  put  on, 
that  he  thinks  himself  to  be  a  pink  of  perfection,  and  that  he  has  made 
the  most  of  himself,  and  the  most  of  his  time.  And  people  say  of  him, 
"He  has  blossomed  out." 

The  thhd  vision  that  we  have,  is,  a  certain  flush  across  the  cheek  ; 
a  certain  audacious  look;  a  fire  in  the  eye;  an  intense  manner;  a  some- 
thing that  suggests  a  man  of  pleasure.  He  is  now  a  man  that  knows 
his  "  p's  and  q's."  He  knows  what  life  is.  He  knows  how  things  go 
in  this  world.  He  is  the  subject  of  much  praise,  and  fools  look  up  and 
envy  him. 

The  scene  shifts  once  more.  The  fourth  vision  which  we  have,  is, 
that  the  man  begins  to  find  the  world  going  against  him.  He  has  not 
been  so  fortunate  latterly  as  he  was  formerly,  and  everybody  begins 
to  talk  about  him.  People,  now  that  he  is  going  down,  instead  of 
praising  him  as  they  did  when  he  was  prosperous,  turn  against  him, 
and  say,  "  When  such  a  man  goes  down,  he  never  goes  up  again."  The 
difference  between  a  good  man  and  a  bad  man,  is,  that  when  a  good 
man  falls  he  shall  rise  again  from  his  very  health  and  elasticity ; 
but  when  a  bad  man  falls,  he  is  like  a  rotten  apple,  that,  falling, 
smashes  all  to  pieces,  and  cannot  be  put  together  again.  A  man  runs 
through  this  career  :  first  the  period  of  blooming  youth  ;  then  the  pe- 
riod of  fast  degradation ;  then  the  indulgent  period  ,  and  then  the 
fourth  period — that  of  decadence,  when  he  begins  to  feel  that  he  is 
sliding  down.  He  was  the  confidential  clerk  of  his  employer ;  but  he 
has  been  put  down,  down,  and  he  has  taken  more  and  more  to  dissi- 
pation. 

Then  comes  the  fifth  period.  The  man  has  the  delirium  tremens. 
And  soon  he  comes  to  the  end  of  his  career.  He  dies  a  miserable 
wreck.     He  reaps  the  fruit  of  that  which  he  has  sown. 

This  is  going  on  right  before  men's  eyes ;  and  yet,  they  are  con- 
ceited ;  and  they  go  straight  on  in  the  steps  of  those  who  have  perished, 
and  do  the  same  things,  and  know  it,  and  say,  "They  were  not  shrewd 
enough  to  avoid  the  dangers  of  the  way,  but  I,  being  wiser  than  they, 
will  escape  harm.     They  were  slain,  but  I  shall  not  be  slain." 

"  Seest  thou  a  man  wise  in  his  own  conceit  ?  there  is  more  hope  of  a  fool 
than  of  him." 

Nowhere  else  is  this  more  marked  than   in  the   security  which 


CONCEIT,  451 

men  fancy  they  can  work  out  while  in  the  participation  of  intoxicating 
diinks.  There  is  no  other  phenomenoa  more  striking  than  the  enor- 
mous waste  of  life  through  intemperance,  and  the  inconceivable  conceit 
of  men  in  regard  to  drinking.  A  young  man  can  scarcely  be  per- 
suaded that  any  of  the  evils  which  come  from  the  use  of  intoxicating 
diinks  will  fall  upon  him.  A  young  man  begins  with  the  wine-cuj)  in 
social  parties ;  and  he  will  drink,  not  because  he  loves  wine  (it  is  the 
testimony  of  all  who  drink  that  in  the  beginning  they  never  drink 
because  they  like  spirituous  liquors),  but  always  for  some  other  reason ; 
and  he  soon  acquires  a  taste  for  it;  and  that  taste  grows;  and  at  length 
it  becomes  his  master  ;  and  finally  it  ruins  him,  both  body  and  soul — 
both  for  this  world  and  lor  the  world  to  come. 

This  spectral  drama  passes  right  before  the  eyes  of  young  men, 
many,  and  many  and  many  a  time ;  and  yet,  they  will  step  into  the 
ranks,  they  will  take  the  same  cup,  they  will  enter  upon  the  same  career, 
they  will  make  the  same  excuses,  they  will  fall  into  the  same  presump- 
tion, and  they  will  come  to  the  same  end.  And  others  will  be  found 
sj^ringing  up  to  take  then*  places.  And  these  will  follow  in  the  same 
path,  and  contract  the  same  habits,  and  make  the  same  plea,  and  come 
to  the  same  death.  And  still  others  will  take  then-  places,  and  go 
right  through  the  same  career. 

So  it  goes  on,  not  in  fives  and  tens,  but  literally  in  hundreds 

and  thousands;  and  you  cannot  persuade  men  that  they  run  a  risk  in 

drinking.     They  will  reason  about  other  people's  drinking,  and  point 

out  the  fallacy  of  other  people's  conceptions,  and  show  where  other 

people  were  too  venturesome,  and  exhort  other  people  to  moderation  ; 

and  yet  they  will  not  believe  that  there  can  be  any  danger  in  their 

case. 

"  Seest  thou  a  man  wise  in  his  own  conceit  ?  there  is  more  hope  of  a  fool 
than  of  him." 

Men  tliink  that  intoxicating  di-inks  will  do  them  no  harm.     They 

know  that  such  drinks  are  not  necessary  for  any  man  in  health  ;  they 

know  that  in  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  cases  in  a  thousand  they 

are  more  likely  to  do  harm  than  good  to  men  in  health  ;  they  know  that 

where  the  use  of  them  is  beneficial  it  is  an  extreme  case ;  and  yet  they 

will  invariably  say,  "  It  will  do  me  no  harm.     I  would  caution  men 

not  to  touch  it,  but  it  will  not  hurt  me."    More  than  that,  they  will  say, 

"The  dangers  that  others  have  fallen  into  can,  by  a  discreet  and  ric^ht 

order  of  things,  be  prevented.   Just  as  soon  as  I  see  that  it  is  doing  me 

any  harm  I  can  stop  it"     But  they  do  not  know  what  they  are  saying 

when  they  make  this  assertion.     I  have  heard  men  talk  about  leaving 

oflF  bad  habits.     I  have  heard  men,  for  instance,  say  that  they  could 

stop  the  use  of  tobacco — and  they  could  till  they  tried  it  I    I  havo 


452  CONCEIT, 

known  men  to  try  it,  and,  after  a  wretched  abstinence  of  one,  two, 
three,  foui",  or  five  days,  begin  to  chew  again.  And  when  I  said,  "Why 
did  not  you  stop  ?"  they  replied,  "  Well,  I  could  have  stopped,  but  I 
thought  I  would  not !"  I  have  known  cases  of  persons  who,  in  order 
to  lay  aside  chewing,  commenced  smoking — which  is  not  supposed  to 
be  so  bad ;  and  the  result  was  that  they  smoked  and  chewed  both. 
And  sometimes  men  have  undertaken  to  leave  the  cigar  and  the  quid, 
and  wind  off  with  snufiing,  and  have  ended  with  snuffing  and  chewing 
and  smoking,  all  three.  Again,  and  again,  and  again,  such  men 
will  say,  "  If  it  were  necessary  I  could  leave  it  off ;"  but  when  they  ac- 
knowledge the  necessity  of  leaving  it  off,  and  try,  they  always  fail. 

And  that  which  is  true  of  narcotic  stimulants  of  this  kind,  is  still 
more  signally  true  of  drink.  When  we  take  into  consideration  the  fact 
that  by  di'ink  the  muscular  structure  is  changed,  and  a  state  of  things 
is  introduced  into  the  constitution  which  men  have  no  knowledge  of, 
and  which  does  not  leave  the  question  to  their  own  will  whether  they 
shall  or  shall  not,  we  can  understand  how  it  is  that  so  many  fail  who 
earnestly  desire  and  try  to  abstain  from  indulgence  in  intoxicating 
drink.  Now  and  then  there  is  a  strong  man  who  is  able,  by  the  exer- 
tion of  his  will,  to  lay  it  aside ;  but  those  who  have  not  the  stamina 
which  he  has,  are  unable  to  do  it.  The  majority  of  men  have  not  this 
power ;  and  yet,  every  man  assures  you  that  he  has  it,  and  that  in- 
toxicating drink  acts  on  him  in  such  a  way  that  he  can  stop  drinking 
whenever  he  pleases  to.  But  let  no  one  delude  himself  with  any  such 
idea.  There  may  be  in  you  a  hereditary  taint,  that  answers  to  powder, 
which,  if  a  spark  falls  upon  it,  will  instantly  explode.  It  you  keep 
powder  from  fire,  it  will  not  do  any  harm ;  and  if  you  keep  away  from 
temptation  to  drink  you  will  be  safe ;  but  if  you  go  where  you  are 
tempted,  you  are  in  imminent  danger.  Many  a  man  carries  in  him  an 
organic,  hereditary  propensity  to  drink.  If  this  propensity  can  be 
shielded  from  certain  excitements,  he  will  go  all  his  life  long  sound  and 
wholesome ;  but  if  it  is  brought  into  certain  conditions  of  pressure,  it 
will  develop  into  an  insanity  for  drink,  into  intoxication,  into  drunken- 
ness. And  no  man  who  takes  the  cup,  and  begins  to  drink,  needlessly, 
rashly,  foolishly,  can  tell  what  sleepmg  devil  is  in  him  that  will  be 
awakened  by  this  bad  practice.  And  to  say  that  you  can  stop  when 
tens  of  thousands  have  tried  it  and  failed,  is  to  prove  yourselves  con- 
iceited. 

"  Seest  thou  a  man  wise  in  his  own  conceit  ?     There  is  more  hope  of  a 
fool  than  of  him." 

But  in  another  respect  men  are  conceited.  Passing  from  the  con- 
ceit which  leads  men  into  vices  and  crimes,  let  us  look  at  conceit  in 
those  aspects  which  relate  to  a  man's  conscience,  faith,  hope,  devo- 


coj^CEiT.  453 

tion.  Men  are  conceited  in  regard  to  religious  truth,  and  in  regard  to 
their  interest  in  religious  things.  There  are  a  great  many  who  are 
believers  in  the  Word  of  God,  and  in  the  essential  truths  which  have 
been  evoked  from  that  word.  There  are  a  great  many  who  go  wrong, 
yet  never  lose  their  fiitli  in  the  Scriptures  ;  but  there  are  multitudes 
of  persons  who  have,  through  conceit,  abandoned  all  faith,  so  that  they 
believe  in  nothing.  I  know  nothing  that  is  more  unhappy,  nothing 
that  is  more  fatal,  nothing  that  is  more  unmanly,  than  the  want  of 
faith.  I  do  not  blame  a  man  Avho,  having  been  educated  in  one  school, 
adopts  the  views  of  truth  which  are  held  by  another  school.  If  a  man, 
having  been  born  a  Protestant,  goes  into  the  Catholic  Church,  under 
the  conviction  that  that  Church  is  right,  though  I  do  not  go  with  him, 
I  can  understand  how  he  can  make  the  change,  and  be  sincere  and 
manly.  He  substitutes  one  set  of  affections  for  another.  The  main 
thing  is  that  a  man  shall  believe  something  which  will  govern  his  life. 
I  can  understand  how  a  man  reared  in  orthodox  views  can  take  on  the 
later  liberal  views.  I  can  understand  how  a  man  educated  in  lib- 
eral views  can  take  on  more  stringent  and  orthodox  views.  It  la 
merely  changing  one  set  of  affections  for  another.  That  which  I 
reprobate  is,  the  sliding  of  men  out  from  under  all  religious  convic- 
tions, and  their  letting  go  everything,  and  for  reasons  so  unworthy, 
being  founded  neither  upon  manhood,  nor  investigation,  nor  knowl- 
edge, but  upon  simple  conceit. 

How  many  young  men  do  I  hear  say,  "I  do  not  believe  a  word 
of  all  the  doctrines,  and  I  do  not  believe  the  Book  itself!"  Did  they 
ever  read  one  single  treatise  on  these  doctrines  ?  Did  they  ever  spend 
an  hour  in  a  critical  examination  of  the  Bible  ?  They  know  nothing 
about  the  doctrines,  and  they  are  ignorant  of  the  contents  of  the 
Bible.  They  are  ignorant  of  all  the  reasons  which  have  been  given  for 
believing  the  Bible  ;  and  above  all,  they  are  ignorant  of  that  which 
is  in  the  Bible.  They  are  ignorant  of  the  essential  spirit,  the  nature 
and  the  reality  of  those  truths  which  are  imperfectly  embodied  there. 
For  the  truths  of  the  Bible  must  be  experimentally  learned.  Tlie 
teachings  of  the  Bible  are  not  clearly  defined.  The  Bible  is  not  like  a 
philosophy  or  a  poem,  which  is  fully  wrought  out.  It  is  to  be  tested 
just  as  a  cook's  recipe  is,  by  trxjing  it,  and  not  simply  by  reading  it. 
The  Word  of  God  is  a  book  on  which  men  are  to  build  a  complete  life. 
If  you  build  in  such  and  such  ways,  you  will  come  to  happiness  here 
and  hereafter ;  but  if  you  build  in  such  and  such  other  ways,  you  will 
come  to  misrule  here,  and  destruction  hereafter.  A  man  can  put  the 
Bible  to  proof,  not  by  argument,  but  by  life.  You  can  see  what 
there  is  in  truth,  in  purity,  in  love,  in  justice,  in  generosity,  in  magnan- 
imity, by  practising  them,  and  not  by  reasoning  upon  them.     Aud 


454  CONCEIT. 

yet,  how  many  young  men  set  the  Bible  aside  without  proving  it — 
without  putting  it  to  trial!  How  many  form  their  opinion  of  the 
Bible,  or  of  sacred  things,  upon  the  argument,  in  a  third  or  fourth  rate 
newspaper,  of  an  ignorant,  shallow-pated  scribbler !  How  many  men  cut 
loose  from  their  early  faith  upon  no  other  ground  than  that  of  compli- 
ance with  the  notions  which  prevail  in  the  circle  among  whom  they 
move !  They  talk  conceitedly  about  ministers,  and  about  chm-ches  ; 
they  criticise  Christian  people  ;  they  laugh  to  scorn  their  companions 
who  read  the  Bible  and  endeavor  to  live  by  its  precepts  ;  they  set 
themselves  up  as  superior  to  all  these  things,  and  sometimes  they  go 
so  far  as  to  mispronounce  the  names  of  great  authors,  and  talk  about 
systems  of  philosophy,  and  the  modern  tendencies  of  religious  ideas ; 
and  they  go  through  life  giving  their  encouragement  to  every  element 
that  makes  a  man  contemptible,  and  putting  obstacles  in  the  way  of 
every  element  that  makes  a  man  respectable. 

There  never  was  a  Bible  made,  there  never  was  a  superstition 
started,  that  it  was  not  better  to  believe  than  to  beUeve  nothing.  To 
not  believe  emasculates  a  man,  and  leaves  him  in  a  condition  in 
which  he  is  liable  to  degenerate  into  all  the  vices  which  afflict  men. 
There  is  nothing  that  makes  a  man  more  mushy,  more  feeble  and 
worthless,  than  the  not  believing  anything.  That  state  of  mind  in 
which  men  are  floating,  in  which  they  do  not  even  speculate ;  that 
state  of  conceit  and  skepticism  and  indiiference  which  is  so  prevalent, 
is  the  cause  of  the  destruction  of  hundreds  and  thousands  of  young 
men. 

And,  lastly,  as  the  grand  climax  of  life,  how  conceited  must  that 
man  be,  who,  having  a  price  put  into  his  hand  to  get  wisdom  ;  bom 
into  a  world  lighted  by  so  fair  a  sun,  hallowed  by  scenes  that  are  them- 
selves the  creatures  of  law  and  the  teachers  of  law ;  thrown  into  a 
society  which  is  organized  to  make  proof  of  certain  great  moral  truths ; 
living  in  the  midst  of  influences  which  are  perpetually  showing  the 
royalty  of  the  things  revealed  in  Scripture ;  and  with  the  testimony 
of  holy  men  innumerable  of  a  faith  which  points  to  the  other  life,  and 
saying,  "  As  a  man  sows  here,  so  shall  he  reap  there  " — how  conceited 
must  that  man  be,  who,  growing  up  under  all  these  benefactions  of 
God,  can  reconcile  himself  to  rising  up  in  the  last  day,  in  the  presence 
of  his  Judge,  and  saying,  "Here,  Lord,  is  the  talent  which  thou 
gavest  me.  I  knew  that  thou  wert  a  hard  master,  reaping  where  thou 
hadst  not  sown ;  and  I  have  buried  my  talent  in  a  napkin.  Here  is 
that  which  is  thine  own !"  And  how  many  men  there  will  be  that 
wUl  take  all  the  experience,  and  instruction,  and  accumulated  wisdom 
of  this  life,  and  despise  it  in  conceit,  and  make  this  adventure,  risk- 
ing everything,  and  rising  in  the  last  great  day,  with  the  one,  or  two, 


CONCEIT,  455 

or  more  talents  that  God  gave  them,  degenerated,  pierced,  coiTupted, 
destroyed !  Oh !  if  men  could  in  that  last  day,  say,  "  Here  is  that 
thou  gavest  me,  as  thou  gavest  it  to  me  ;  oh !  if  they  could  carry  back 
the  child's  sweet  simplicity,  and  his  innocence  therein,  and  present 
them  before  God,  that  would  be  some  consolation ;  but  that  they 
should  appear  before  God  with  their  whole  soul  contorted, — their 
reason  suborned  and  made  false ;  their  conscience  perverted ;  their 
moral  sense  death-struck ;  all  their  best  affections  scarred  and  marred ; 
and  their  whole  life  a  stupendous  folly,  a  grand  mistake,  a  blunder 
throughout, — that  is  too  sad  to  contemi)late.  Lower  than  the  birds, 
lower  than  the  insects,  lower  than  the  very  reptiles,  all  of  whom  fulfill 
the  duties  of  their  sphei'es,  lower  than  the  lowest  thing,  they  shall  rise 
and  stand  before  God  ;  and  to  the  demand,  "  Where  are  the  powers 
that  I  entrusted  to  you  ?"  they  will  show  but  the  wreck  and  ruin  of 
themselves.  Oh !  in  that  tremendous  hour,  when  they  shall  rise  to 
shame  and  everlasting  contempt,  then,  then,  the  Voice  from  the  dark 
overhanging  cloud  will  descend  upon  their  ear,  saying, 

"  Seest  thou  a  man  wise  in  his  own  conceit  ?  there  is  more  hope  of  a 
fool  than  of  him." 

May  God  give  you  wisdom,  in  all  humility,  to  look  unto  Jesus,  and 
through  Jesus  unto  God,  who  giveth  liberally  to  those  that  lack  wis- 
dom, and  upbraideth  not ;  who  heareth  them  that  cry  to  him,  saying, 
"  Thou  art  the  God  of  my  youth ;"  those  who  believe  that  the  fear  of 
God  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom ;  those  who  believe  that  long  life  and 
prosperity  are  to  be  sought  by  earnestly  seeking  God  and  cleaving 
unto  him. 


PRAYER  BEFORE  THE  SERMON. 

Our  Father,  we  bless  thy  name  that  thou  hast  made  thyself  known  to  us ; 
that  we  behold  thee  in  Jesus  our  Lord ;  that  so  much  of  thy  nature  is  dis- 
closed in  him ;  that  we  are  so  brought  near  to  thee  by  this,  that  thou 
hast  been  like  unto  ourselves  ;  in  all  points  temj)ted  like  as  we  are,  and  yet 
without  sin.  There  is  no  sorrow  on  earth  the  like  of  which  thou  hast  not 
felt.  All  the  ways  by  which  temptations  come  thou  hast  walked  ;  and  there 
is  no  soul  on  which  the  shadow  shall  fall  darker  than  it  fell  on  thine.  There 
is  no  yoke  heavier  than  thy  neck  did  bear;  and  no  spear  sharper  than  that 
which  pierced  thy  side.  Having  learned  by  tasting  our  lot  and  experience, 
having  been  made  a  perfect  Captain  of  our  salvation,  we  are  encouraged  to 
draw  near  to  thee,  in  that  thou  canst  succor,  and  in  tliat  thou  canst  sympathize. 
And  we  rejoice  that  thou  hast  a  fellow  feeling.  For,  although  thou  wert  with- 
out sin,  thou  dost  behold  those  that  sin.  And  thou  hast  been  so  near  them, 
and  art  thyselfsofuUof  love,  thatthou  canst  havecompansion  upon  tliose  who 
are  out  of  the  way.  Thou  dost  not  scorn  us  because  of  our  wrong-doing. 
Men  who  are  themselves  sinners;  men  who  are  from  time  to  time  forgiven 
of  God,  turn  with  scorn  from  their  fellow-men,  and  tread  hard  upon  those 
who  are  weak  and  sinful ;  but  with  thee  that  art  pure,  witliout  spot  or 
blemish,  is  mercy  and  gentleness,  and  great  forbcarauce.    For  thou  wuuidst 


456  CONCEIT, 

not  that  any  should  perish.  Thou  wouldst  that  all  be  brought  through  re- 
pentance to  salvation.  And  thou  art  sparing.  Thou  hast  spared  in  limes 
past.  And  there  are  many  in  thy  presence  this  evening  that  have  provoked 
thee,  that  have  withstood  thee,  that  have  disobeyed  thee,  that  have  scorned 
thee.  There  are  many  who  have  been  willing  to  consume  the  mercies  of 
God  ignobly  and  requite  nothing.  They  have  rejoiced  to  see  the  fullness  of 
thine  open  hand;  but  thine  hand  with  the  sceptre  and  with  law  they  have 
despised.  And  yet,  thou  hast  not  forgotten  to  be  gracious  to  them.  Thou 
causest  the  sun  to  rise  upon  the  good  and  upon  the  evil ;  upon  the  just  and 
upon  the  unjust.     Thou  art  sending  thy  bounties  to  them  from  day  to  day. 

Oh  Lord  1  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thy  goodness  may  lead  men  to  repent- 
ance ;  that  they  may  not  provoke  thee  by  turning  thy  goodness  into  an  argu- 
ment of  presumption  ;  that  they  may  not  harden  themselves,  and  destroy 
their  own  souls,  by  the  very  messengers  and  mercies  which  were  sent  for 
their  salvation.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  give  to  us  to  night  an  open  ear,  a 
softness  of  heart,  and  an  alert  conscience.  Grant,  we  pray  thee,  that  there 
may  be  some  to-night  who  shall  consider  their  ways  and  be  wise.  We  pray 
that  thou  wilt  by  thy  Spirit  move  upon  the  heart ;  and  that  thou  wilt  give 
the  truth  a  lodgment  therein;  and  that  it  may  be  as  seed  sown  in  good 
ground  ;  and  that  it  may  spring  up  and  bring  forth  a  hundred  fold. 

Confirm  all  that  are  beginning  to  walk  in  the  Christian  life.  Though 
they  see  dimly,  and  are  as  little  children,  may  they  still  persevere,  knowing 
that  God  will  hold  them  up.  If  there  are  any  that  are  surrounded  with 
dangers  and  temptations  more  than  they  are  able  to  bear,  strengthen  them 
in  the  hour  of  trial.  Hold  them  up  by  thine  own  arm,  that  they  may  not 
fall. 

We  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  that  all  those  who  are  sitting 
in  darkness  and  in  trouble,  and  all  thoee  whose  faith  is  failing,  and  who 
seem  to  themselves  ready  to  perish  without  succor,  may  find  thee  a  present 
help  in  time  of  trouble.  Give  sight  to  the  blind,  and  hearing  to  the  deaf, 
and  life  to  the  dead.  Grant  we  beseech  of  thee,  that  thy  mercies  may 
abound,  and  that  all  through  this  great  assembly  there  may  be  hearts  re- 
sponsive to  thy  touch,  breaking  forth  into  thanksgiving  and  praise  for  the 
wonderful  things  which  the  Lord  shall  do  unto  them. 

We  pray  that  thou  will  grant  thy  blessing  t©  go  forth  from  church 
to  church,  and  strengthen  the  hands  of  thy  servants  who  preach,  and  of 
those  that  gather  together  devoutly  to  serve  the  Lord.  We  pray  that  those 
may  be  blessed  who  go  forth  to  teach  others,  and  visit  the  neglected,  and 
search  out  those  that  need  succor.  And  may  the  mercy  which  they  bear  to 
others  be  visited  in  great  abundance  upon  their  own  souls. 

And  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thy  kingdom  may  come,  and  thy  will  be 
done  in  all  the  earth,  and  the  whole  world  see  thy  salvation. 

We  ask  it  for  Christ  Jesus'  sake.    Amen. 


PRAYER  AFTER  THE  SERMON. 

Our  heavenly  Father,  we  beseech  of  thee  that  thou  wilt  grant  thy  bless- 
ing to  rest  upon  thy  word, and  make  it  carry  light  and  conviction  to  those 
who  need  it.  We  pray  that  thou  wilt  help  all  good  men  to  warn  those  that 
are  imperiled.  May  we  not  be  content  to  carry  our  own  light  unblown-out, 
nor  to  keep  our  own  garments  from  being  soiled.  May  w- e  seek  also  to  serve 
others.  May  we  be  wise  to  save  them,  that  we  may  shine  as  the  stars  in  the 
firmament,  having  turned  many  to  righteousness. 

Wilt  thou  bless  us  now  as  we  are  dismissed.  Go  home  with  us.  Bless 
the  week.  Help  us  to  carry  truth  and  justice  into  all  its  duties,  and  through 
every  hour.  And  finally,  through  all  the  trials  of  life,  bring  us  at  last  safely 
to  our  eternal  home  in  heaven, through  riches  of  grace  in  Christ  Jesus  our 
Lord.    Amen. 


,^javard>v^.^^/ 


:.:->>..J-::m^'i*^K<ic....i>;,i:,.^'-^.:^yji,^XiJi^i^ 


DATE  DUE 


^WSETB^ 


CAYLOFtD 


•  RJNTCD  IN  U    » 


